Poisonwood

Yesterday, we got clouded out. My parents and grandparents took the kids to a movie, and I got the chance to slip out for a long walk on the moody beach.

You're reading my mind, Zoey.

A creature of the earth and the dirt, I get a little freaked out staying way up high in the condo my parents rent. The first year I came, I sought solace in the little slice of state park across the intercoastal. Unfortunately, my communing with the trees and the plants led to a wicked case of poisonwood all over my legs. Some people leave spring break with a tan, I left with a horrid rash. Gotta laugh.

These days, I head straight for the beach. And the dark skies suit me just fine, reminding me of Ocean Beach, where Chris and I, (and Stella, briefly,) once lived.

Where did that boat come from? What's it carrying? Where is it going?

Along my walk, I encountered many hungover spring breakers, including a crew of boys playing football. Their air was tough and strong, affected. Cast aside next to one of them was a giant box of chocolate milk. Just seemed so perfect.