At times I really miss living on the beach. Reading the Skinny Island Post brings a lot of that back to me, now. The waves crashing on the beach at night, which become part of your blood pressure rhythms, and your biological pace. I used to miss it when I would just drive over to the mainland, and get groceries, or get dinner out, somewhere.
The food is really great down there. Nights of crab legs, and shrimp, fixed at the condo... or fried clams, flounder, and beer down on Sunglow Pier, at Crabby Joe's... I sense an ever-deepening withdrawal, one that only tends to get worse as the years go by.
I think I will finish up Life on the beach, somewhere, down there, in a beach house.
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