Fort 4th of July

I am sitting on a log in front of a driftwood fort on the Fourth of July. I am eating a modest breakfast.

It is morning. I just built the fort. It took two hours, a good workout of the body and creative mind.

I am surrounded by dozens of bumblebees feeding on the purple flowers of a beach plant. Perhaps I should know the name of this plant, but I don’t.

There is something incredibly comforting in knowing that one is surrounded by bumblebees at the beach.

Trucks blow by on the wet sand at 50-60 miles an hour. Their drivers will never notice bumblebees at the beach and that makes me sad. Everyone should see the drunken dance of the bumblebee at the beach, with a driftwood fort behind and the ocean in front. (Oh yes, throw in 20 pelicans, too.)

My mind returns to another fort, one I visited yesterday at dawn. Inside one of the containers, I discovered a message that was written to me, but not addressed to me. It was an appreciative message and I was fairly awestruck to receive it. Thank you. You signed your name and I think I know who you are, but perhaps not. I hope one of the fortune cookies I left behind brought you good fortune.

There is no around me for miles. The drivers in the trucks don’t count. They aren’t really here.

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