It’s December.
But it’s sunny today. And freezing, west-coast style.  It’s not quite winter (Dec 21) but it’s close enough.

The beach is near deserted. The wind, chilling, yet rejuvenating.  And the sea continues to churn.

Waves

Sea foam. Sea froth.  Flowing over the rocks, waving with the waves. To grow, and subside. Again and again. Polishing the rocks, little by little. Rocks to sand.

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Foam wave after another, the sound of the water’s gentle roar of it’s breathing. The ocean’s blood may be cold today but it is alive.  Yet today, it is gentle, subdued. Showing us only its beauty of its foam, its strength.

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For some reason, these photos and the beach today reminds me a bit of some of  poems from Sea Garden by H.D. (Hilda Doolittle)   Except I’m not quite as good as a poet as her and this post isn’t really a poem (it’s prose with “poetic tendencies”..).

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