From eleven to twelve, the Walkaholics stroll from Crazy Canuck’s to Wayo’s without wetting a whistle.

From twelve to four, on the way back, there are stops at the Sandbar for drinks and lunch, Licks, the Runway Bar and Crazy Canuck’s for more drinks and toasts.

The sun and surf and sky give us a show.

We are numbers in a mathematical equation, written on a chalkboard, described  by Einstein and Newton, buzzing in time and space like sand fleas on a great sand beach. The equation looks like a bird nest.

There are times when the universe’s mystery puts your skull in a nutcracker and cracks your head wide open until the confetti inside is picked up by the afternoon breeze and scattered.

 

 

 

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