I walked along a kelp-strewn beach on a sunny Sunday morning. Green ocean on my left. A slack creek on my right. Geese flew overhead. Geese honking in the distance. Geese tracks everywhere. They appeared as almost a primitive written language.
An old man walked nearby with a big brown dog. Jesus I want a dog!
My energy level for living felt off the charts. I decided to channel it, although sometimes I think it’s better when I don’t and just let the marvel burn deep until it dies out.
I built a fort and hung some kelp across the entrance, and it swung in the breeze as a kind of pendulum. Poe would have dug it.
I built another fort, and pointed a 20 foot-spar to the sky. The design reminded me of a cathedral, a cathedral for one, a cathedral for the Sea God.
I built another fort, smaller, more enclosed, with a bench in front for the weary beachcomber.
An idea for a fort book came to mind.
I sat down, ate a meager breakfast, drank water, and thought about the book. I was seeing the layout, the cover, the typography. I was thinking in haiku. I want to live as haiku. I want to love in haiku.
Three forts enough
but of course, never enough.
Build one tomorrow.
I left the beach at 8:32 AM and headed for home.