Photos coming soon

As I said, I've forgotten the correct cable to download my photos. Perhaps this is a good thing. I'd be obligated to post the photo of myself buried up to my neck and sculpted into a mermaid. A well-endowed mermaid. Sand is very heavy and also persistent in finding places on the body you didn't know existed. Still, it was oddly relaxing and I fell asleep for a split second, causing my foot to jerk, ruining my tail.

The waves are incredible this year, pounding surf eating away at the fragile shoreline. Each morning so far, we've gotten up and walked an hour. After, we play in the water and read. And read. I've visited many of the relatives already. Not everyone was here this year, only 47 versus over sixty last year. Yet, it is good to return to this place we've come so many years like the turtles that return to lay their eggs. Only I'm done laying eggs.

The ocean seems to be like coming home somehow, like a friend you know but haven't seen in awhile. It is strangely calming and reassuring at the same time holding frightening secrets beneath the depths. As I stared at the horizon, I thought of all my relatives who crossed this same ocean, some not too long ago, and coming here with such hopes.

The moon hangs at half illumination, dashing our chances this year of seeing turtles hatch. In fact, we've yet to locate a nest.

The girls have returned from their evening card games and tell me that the relatives are in their rocking chairs, laughing loudly until tears form and they laughed just to hear them. I stayed home, reading my book and listening to the waves from the second story deck of this rental.