A rising sun has emblazoned clouds in the east, diffusing light far differently from yesterday's round, red ball, peeping over the horizon. The day begins in silence. Shorebirds are unusually quiet, and there is no lapping of wavelets against the shore. It is like Mozart's "Requiem" in which the audience does not hear the symphony at first, but after a while hears the increasing sound. We know from experience that a brisk wind will soon bring white-capped waves crashing ashore. -- Diary, winter 2015
From the diary of beach walker George Thatcher / Email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Collections of Mr. Thatcher's observations are available from Quail Ridge Press (www.quailridge.com or 1-800-343-1583).
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