We have come to the beach to swim. There is the usual chop and steep break at the shoreline, and a brisk wind is blowing up the beach. The water is cold. Even the kids who have come to swim are popping out after just a few minutes. The temperature on the beach is pleasant, at least ten degrees cooler than at Mom’s house. I wish we could stay here for the afternoon, but we haven’t brought any lunch with us.
Casting around for painting subjects, I am once again attracted to the line of trees along the right-hand shore. The cottonwoods stand forward here. A line of cumulus clouds is stacking against the shore, a sign of the thunderstorm expected tonight.
Casting around for painting subjects, I am once again attracted to the line of trees along the right-hand shore. The cottonwoods stand forward here. A line of cumulus clouds is stacking against the shore, a sign of the thunderstorm expected tonight.
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