Pismo Day

The number one reason to get up and out while I'm at Pismo Beach is to walk along the sea shore. Today the sea is a sapphire blue, it is calm, and the tides are barely a fringe along the sandy beach. Through the years, I counted them today, twenty-five, I have been walking along Pismo beaches.

The constant roar of waves little or huge crashing on the beach wipes out all the non-important chatter. Now days I walk alone. In the beginning Bob introduced me to taking long walks sometimes fast and efficient, sometimes romantic and slow with the moonlight as our guide. I miss walking with Bob.

Today, I think about how I would like to make friends with those I pass on the beach. We probably have a lot in common. Free time, a fondness for nature and solitude. Most of those whose paths I cross exchange smiles, others look away far away to the horizon or down at their feet. We all walk along the sea's border for our own reasons.

I'm always delighted to see a young jogger, tall,tan, muscular, young, wearing dark glasses, baggy shorts, sometimes long black hair jogs with him. They always smile. The boy from Inpanema . . . I probably remind him of his mother.

Four women, girlfriends for decades sit in comfortable beach chairs. The tailgate of their SUV, their outdoor bar. A huge red kite flies above their camp. One reads an Oprah book club pick. Two wrestle another kite and give up in favor of another gin and tonic. Two are gray and sagging. I am absolutely sure of their wisdom. Another has hair the color of pink champagne. I think she either is lots of fun or twits about too much, one or the other. The fourth has dark hair and is covered from head to toe. Maybe she had voted to spend the afternoon at the mall.
We exchange smiles, too.

Today I don't feel lonely during my walk. I feel alive. In the past, I have wanted to continue my walk to shores of Antarctica. Not today, 45 minutes going and returning, I've had a good day.