The first day of October and we make a spur-of-the-moment trip to the beach. Because it is fall and the days will grow shorter. Because of these unbelievable clouds. Because we want to watch the sun go down.
It’s cold by the water and I grab a blanket from the car to wrap around my shoulders on the long walk down the hill to the beach. I am wearing the wrong shoes and my heels go everywhere on the rocks, but I remember patience, find my way.
My daughter takes off her hat the second she hits the sand. I watch her throw rocks into the water, one by one. Then she builds me a salad out of seaweed, a cream cheese sandwich from stones. I eat them up and ask for more.
Around us the sky grows darker. It is huge and everything. There is no sunset after all, but here, at the edge of the world, there are peaches, built from sand and sliced with sticks. We do not want for much.