Surfers surfed in the roiling river, between the north and south jetties. The incoming tide sent up perfect waves. It seemed insane to be out there, but probably was necessary to preserve a semblance of sanity.
The seals were right there with them. They were just having fun and munching fish at the same time.
Rain fell. The ocean was green and white, churning and churning. It would outlast us all. As the poet Richard Hugo wrote, “We are absurd.”
Never is that more obvious than now. What’s that saying about a trained seal…? Well, they could run the federal government better than it’s being run now, and they wouldn’t try to enrich themselves, either.
A man built a fort, a solid hangout fort. He decorated it with an empty can of Mickey’s found in the wood. Fort Mickey! Oh the goodness of the fortified green of Mickey’s malt liquor, but really, you need the short, squat, wide-mouth jar for the best effect. The tall can seems classless, more like a Miller Lite.
An old rock hound approached the fort building man. They met. The rock hound sported an orange mustache out of the Civil War. He gave an instant lesson in rock hounding, agates and jasper and such. He laughed at the can and wanted it for future cash. The fort man told him he needed it for art’s sake! They both laughed at that.
Rock hound left to go tumble and polish. Fort man kept on fortifying. The seals came in closer to watch.