A Gray Day at Seahurst

It was a gray day, but there was still color all around. 

Here is a man I saw on that gray day. He goes to the beach with his notebook. He looks at the water and ponders and philosophies. He writes down all his ideas, his dreams, his theories, his stories. When he is old he will have thousands of saved note books full of his words. He will read them all again someday. So will a curious descendant or two.

The seashore is speckled with all sorts of strange things. This most likely is a piece from a spaceship.

I wore yellow on the day I went to the seashore, and I picked up lots of things....seaweed and crabs and barnacles and rocks and shells and this and that. 

All of it was beautiful and interesting and I would have liked to slip it all in my pockets so they bulged and smelled like sea salt decay, but instead I snapped photos and let them rest in their natural environment to be picked up by the tide or another person to take to their house and put on their windowsill.