It is nearing sunset on the Gulf. The wind is picking up, and the families who have slathered their babies in sunscreen and shaded themselves with umbrellas and soaked in salt water all day have almost all gone home.
Soundtrack [sanctuary]
Beneath the Baby Grand, the sound enveloped me, its resonance like a spirit, circling above and rippling below, the whispered vibrations reaching for my ears, rising through the itchy Oriental rug from the hardwood floors with elaborate force and infinite possibility.
The Blyde River Canyon [sanctuary]
The Blyde River Canyon, where the waters of joy and sorrow flow, has become my spiritual center, of sorts. My mother when I am missing home. My Canyon de Chelly. It is where I go to think about the triangle of my past, present, and future.
Gods of Frolic [freestyle: dog park]
A de facto dog park in all respects, it is absolutely unofficial, and technically, illegal.
