The sea that we view today brims with life in countless forms. Writers praise the fullness of summer, a season of maturity for which other seasons have strived. There are so many fish plying these waters that dolphins are tempted to swim in the shallows to consume their quarry. As we celebrate the extravagant season of summer, mullet leap repeatedly above a calm sea, witnessed by a nearby heron. Emily Dickinson wrote of such a day in her 1861 poem “I taste a liquor never brewed: “Inebriate of air am I, / And debauchee of dew, / Reeling, through endless summer days, / From inns of molten blue.”
Diary, summer 2016
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 800-343-1583.