What perverse aberration causes people to go to a beach that is completely empty except for dog walkers and set up shop right next to me? Upwind and smoking. Why does my presence in a particular area make it the designated beach blanket spot?
1. I don't care how many tattoos you and your girlfriend have between you. You do not have the right to force me to move a mile or so down the beach to get away from you.
2. What kind of moron brings a boombox here to drown out lapping waves while birds soar overhead, calling to each other?
Scientists should study the magnetic force I exert on my fellow humans, (and I use that term advisedly,) who have no apparent interest in communing with Nature, and feel compelled to ensure that I can't either. I would like to know what spawns this behavior so I can fix it.
Beaches are the last frontier. They are among the few places that still have constant change and movement. Structures do not stand in sand, nor are there malls, offices or even Starbucks by this shore. What remains is rushing tide, egrets and gulls, native plants.
On beaches, I both forget and remember who I am, far from hungry eyes consuming all they light upon. I wear no labels by the shore. I could be anyone. In anonymity is freedom, a concept that has become suspect in our national life today.
I could gain weight here, for being outdoors makes me hungry. The simplest fare's a banquet when sitting on hot sand with cool breeze riffling my hair.
A small blue fishing boat sails in under a cloud of seagulls. It's obvious they have made a good haul.
A flock of pelicans swoops by single file, 13 in all, browsing the waves in search of supper.
I watch a dog sniff another dog's ass, then lift his leg and piss on the first dog.
No dogfight ensues.
There seems to be an unspoken rule of life here: The world is divided into two camps, the pissers and the pissees.
You know who you are.
