Sand under the Feet

Summer ends, school starts, fall arrives and I have the beach to myself.  In the summer the surf is full with surfers, swimmers, and fishermen. The beach has kids and dogs, people in long sleeve shirts with wide brimmed hats and others doing the sun worshiper thing. Now summer is over and most people long gone. This is one my favorite beach times, off season, with just the occasional fisher and the lone camp. I can walk the beach without watching for golf carts, the dogs can lope off running from the dunes to the surf. It is still warm enough to walk without a shirt, letting the sun create more serotonin, natural Prozac. With sundown the serotonin will be converted to melatonin and I will sleep well tonight. Fall at the beach in Surfside.


After the fun of summer comes the relaxation of fall followed by the solitude of winter. Now is the time between the frantic days and the holidays, no expectations, no social commitments, no schedule to meet.  Sand under the feet, sand on my sneakers, sand that started as mountain or hill, hard rock slowly eroded over eons. Washed down streams to rivers, then to the bay and into the Gulf Stream to end under my feet and on my sneakers. Wind blows some inland to build dunes while the tide carries some further down the shore, making a living evolving landscape. One fall day in the millennial movement of the beach.

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