Off to the beach.
The winter beach.
The slow times at the winter beach.
The winter beach weather coming in like soup.
Like the winter weather pouring in off the bay spilling the fog back.
The sun threads through the ocean air but doesn’t warm anything.
It’s cool light.
Winter beach light.
The frozen light of a person looking at you who doesn’t really love you. They say they do but they don’t want you to think they do so you will do things for them.
They want you to work for them.
You are reading and walking on the beach in the winter light.
Winter light doesn’t hold any brightness, just a creamy yellow space around you like the light in a room when you waken and you don’t know what day it is.
I remember waking as a child under the stars when there was a meteor shower and holding my hands open hoping to catch them. I’m waiting still to catch stars.