I went to the beach. Just walked across the little country road from the park where I work and live (for the summer) and there I was: at Caspar Beach. Tucked into a comfortable little cove on the north coast of California.
It was a fine sunny day. I set out my beach chair and sat down. Kicking off my sheepskin boots, I wiggled my toes into the soft warm sand.
With me I had a good old lazy summer day mystery novel, my camera, a tiny beach umbrella, a tiny beach chair, and Peach.
I must interrupt my story here to inject something very important. Peach started out life with me as “a peach.” Just another item of food that I bought at the nearby Safeway to enhance my daily living requirements, not meant to be anything special.
That was before I packed Peach with my other “day at the beach” necessities. As the day progressed I imagined the peach with human qualities. It was a good day. A day with Peach at the Beach.
Washed out to sea by a rogue wave, a rescued but slightly battered Peach soaks up some rays.
After this picture I sat watching the sunset and ate the peach thinking I’ll never forget my day with Peach. By the way, it was the best peach I ever ate!