Another lazy Sunday at the bay was as entertaining as it was restful.
Between chapters I enjoyed a nearby group of teenagers strumming guitars, tapping on bongos and furtively sipping beers.
Here and there scantily clad lovers laid themselves out on the fine sand, thighs touching, lips hungering for connection.
Others strolled the shoreline, heads together in deep discussion. The breeze carried their voices to me as they passed. From under my wide-brimmed sun hat I had the privilege of joining them unobserved, knowing the healing rays and salty air might bring them solutions, as it had for me on occasion.
Paddle boarders and kayakers swept silently by, offering each other congenial one-handed salutes.
Swimmers played and splashed and laughed, and dogs ran free in the tide pools, catching balls and driftwood and chasing seagulls.
Even with all this going on the beach seemed to extend privacy to each of us.
