Rains through the night made path a bit like erased blackboard, no trace of yesterday’s activities. Nature’s behavior is a racing steed on a tear. No herons, just an odd brown duck-goose, the ocean tireless and relentless swirls in earth’s contours and pounds the beach smooth and hard leaving a fresh canvas for honeysuckle blossoms to drop, a sight to lift the soul, and beating the nascent maple leaves like tissue paper. Along one edge of the path lay a peel off sticker that said SOULEVER/LIFT and I picked it up. Three manhole covers spotted the parking lot at the convenience store, where as I got $3.89 in gas, the fluorescent orange, red and black circles made oval eyes to me.


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