Monday evening and I feel the outcast. The sun sets over the Pacific, and I am the only one on Moonstone without a dog, camera or climbing equipment. Judging by the preponderance of four-legged friends and ropes, I am in the serious minority not having two, if not all three, of these.
It is warm out and the wind I was afraid would make this a bone-chilling misery, is pleasantly absent. If I weren’t such a stickler about sand in the nether-regions, I’d lie down and make sand angels. Yes, this is the place. Why did I ever leave?
It feels like Spring, which probably explains my grin. Either that, or the images, unbidden, that flit in and out of my mind when I think of cameras, ropes and down on all fours . . . Oh my! Okay, enough of that.