Friday Morning Beach Report

Today's Ocean

Green and cross-hatched with waves, frothy fireworks explode over the breakwater.

Gulls fly drunk while I search for treasure.

I pocket beach glass and covet pieces of driftwood too heavy to carry.

I cheat the great Pacific garage patch out of two toy shovels, one blue and one green, matching the clothes I'm wearing.

I might look ridiculous. 

Trudging into the wind, I think:

It's the walk itself that is the treasure.

And this very breath, and the next one

and the next.