Sand in Pocket

At last, the temperatures in Maine are back to a thinking man’s idea of summer. No more groveling in the shade or taking my family to shop at the local Hannafords simply to cool down besides the dairy and cheese.

And my family and I have discovered a sand beach. We had no idea it even existed this close to our house. An idyllic strand hidden in plain view. Crashing waves, warm water, a circling bald eagle, the lazy beat of a passing blue heron, scuttling hermit crabs, and the slow crawl of sea snails, leaving straight lines in the wet sand. The best part, though, is that nobody seems to know about this small sandy beach. The day we went, we were the only ones romping about.

If I worked for a lifestyle magazine that enticed out-of-staters here with the promise of everlasting delight, I’d have to spill the location. But since I don’t, I’m not giving away its whereabouts. I’m keeping its location all to myself. I might even draw a map, stuff it into a peg leg, and forget about it. Or I may get the map tattooed to a spot on my body that hardly sees the light of day.

I’ll most likely continue to write about the sandy beach. It’s such a find. I might write about how I surfed to shore on the last wave of the day. I might write about finding a passport photograph of a young man with a moustache whose portrait gave no hint of the life he lived. I might write about the stone dog that washed ashore and came to life. I might write about the scrap I got into with a feisty hermit crab in a yellow periwinkle shell who almost took pity on me. I might also tell of the hermit crab who gladly offered me his shell in return for my bipedal life among giants.

I’m still pursuing a job the way the Snork Maiden pursues Moomintroll. I’m ready for something now to fall out of the sky and hit me on the head. I promise not to carry an umbrella. I’d also settle for an agent to pick me up in his or her strong arms, swirl me around, and point me in the direction of a publisher for my novel.

Ok, time to get back into my foxhole to write. Then I’m off to that beach for some extra solitude.

Here’s some Mission UK.


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