It is a Friday. Yes, it is so hot out that most photographers have taken to the studio cool. We were to journey to the beach Saturday.
The prospect of the return to the calming influence of the Atlantic ocean at Crescent Beach leaves as a weep tide. Perhaps we shall journey after all, for as I said previously, I am there now, the waves gently lapping upon the worn one.
And so I sit and watch the caressing of the marigold, the sway of the amaranth, the song of the spider lily,the praise of the Gloriosa Lily and know if the oceans swell not for me, then I have this little garden of friends to carry me.
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