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El Niño scooped the sand  clearing every scrap of driftwood,  every construction playful of a summer’s dayful  the slapped-together forts, dinosaurs, castles now launched to Mexico, to Tahiti, who knows? replaced by fresh fragments of forest  twisted logs, battered beams shed by Oregon, by Vancouver Island and Alaska bobbed by current to this windswept cove. Beneath swirls of sunset as Van Gogh might render among scattered scallops, kelp,  sandpipers by the hundred,  one joyful dog dances the landscape expressing with his grin this vast chaos of delight.
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Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:46 PM UTC
Pomponio Beach, Low Tide
El Niño scooped the sand  clearing every scrap of driftwood,  every construction playful of a summer’s dayful  the slapped-together forts, dinosaurs, castles now launched to Mexico, to Tahiti, who knows? replaced by fresh fragments of forest  twisted logs, battered beams shed by Oregon, by Vancouver Island and Alaska bobbed by current to this windswept cove. Beneath swirls of sunset as Van Gogh might render among scattered scallops, kelp,  sandpipers by the hundred,  one joyful dog dances the landscape expressing with his grin this vast chaos of delight.
I live back in the hills about 10 miles from this, my favorite beach. First published in The Avocet.
joe-cottonwood
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Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 9:46 PM UTC
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