Interlude: The Atlantic Ocean

 I had planned to take the day off for weeks. I was going to go to the beach, on a weekday in October, so that it would be quiet and mostly devoid of people. I was going to get out. I was going to pack a lunch and eat it among the seagulls.

For many reasons, some of which I can't discuss, and some of which I can, I couldn't pack a lunch that day. I was too overwhelmed. That was also the day that the president of the United States was hospitalized with the virus he refused to acknowledge was a threat, having recklessly infected who knows how many people with his refusal to wear a mask. There were maskless people on the boardwalk, but nobody on the beach itself except the seagulls, mask or no mask. People usually avoid the beach when the sky looks like this.

It was the only thing I found comforting in the midst of all this. The seagulls apparently haven't had so many visitors, and kept coming very close to me.

It's nice when they pose like that.

This day was also the one year anniversary of my car being hit by a bus that then just drove away. That's been on my mind some. I don't know what to tell you about it, or about me. I will post when I can, but probably not so frequently for a little while, and a long hiatus is possible. I have some posts scheduled and I've taken some photos for a few others, but words to describe how overwhelmed I am feeling with stuff escape me, and I may need a bit of a break.

So here it is: A placeholder so you know what's going on. A hope for a future, maybe. A quest for solace in the present. And the ocean and a seagull. It's what I've got right now. Take care of yourselves, too.