I must have taken 100 photographs yesterday for the transient photo challenge: everything about the beach is impermanent. Waves roll in, crash, spend out, and they are gone. Shells clack together and crumble in the pounding surf. Sea grass clumps wash ashore, then lift and move as waves wash over the flat sand. Surfers follow the swells: they … Continue reading Impermanent
I’m sitting in a beach chair 4 inches off the ground, a cup of coffee in the soft white sand by my right hand, watching perfect tubes of waves run up the beach like zippers closing. I’ve written another pen out of ink, am talking with my husband about sailboats and the physics of ocean … Continue reading Current status
Originally posted on Sandy McFadden:
Since joining Automattic (and to the annoyance of some people, I’m sure) I tend to go on about how much I enjoy my job and the company itself. I’ve often been asked what it takes and what you need to know to get the job. Especially since I called people… Continue reading So You Want to be a Happiness Engineer, Huh?
Pelicans glide Wingtips to water Leaving me behind. I am happy. The sea sighs beside me: My footprints will wash away. Shrimpers pull nets Smelling of fish Into the clouds. Glistening arcs, Children dive Into white cresting waves. I squint. The ocean Commands my whole view. Crash! Surf pounds at my feet. A shrimp boat spreads nets … Continue reading Haiku from the beach
I am a friend to the sand, to the swath of washed up coquina shells, to my long shadow that stretches down the beach towards the ocean. I am a friend to my notebook pages that flap in the sea breeze, to the bright orange swim shirt my son wears, to the jagged choppy waves. I … Continue reading Friend to the grains of sand
Boating life revolves around weather, and here on the coast of Georgia, it also revolves around tides. We spent all day yesterday waiting for 2pm to come so we could catch the sandbar — our ultimate destination for the day — at a time where the tide was high enough to get the boat out of the … Continue reading The Sandbar