Ah, for the afternoon when there is nothing to see, and time to see everything.
On the last warm day of November, there is value in the way the clear water ripples over a lost shell on the rugged beach at Frank Starr Park, and the way the hardy plants wave in the warm breeze nearby, inviting straggling waterbirds into the safety of their roots. A moment of quiet contemplation atop a log. A string of footprints in the sand. Simple Pleasures.