I finally gave myself permission to drive twenty-five minutes west to Moss Landing State Beach today and worship-walk for three hours along Monterey Bay. It was a Spacific Oceanic sandy surfy religious experience. Seraphim and Cherubim and Ophanim and Archangels and pre-rebellion Beelzebub and legions of unnamed relatives of minor league angels danced in my head the whole time. I would periodically stop and shout "Hosanna in the Highest!" or "Ad deum qui laetificat!" or "Juventutum meum!" or "E pluribus unum!" or any other churchy-Latiny words I could think of from way back when church was fun because you didn't know what the heck anybody was saying. "Ora pro nobis!"
I loved saying "Ora pro nobis!" when I was a kid. I hope it doesn't translate to anything too nasty.
Today was the most fun I've had by far since the whole SIP thing kicked in. When the waves are crashing and the breeze is blowing and you have walked way past where the normal people stop and plop down their chairs and their EZ-up tents and their 4-wheel drive ice chests, you can yell whatever you damn well please into the wind. And I did. Mostly in Latin. With feelin'.
This beach is the one that I spent a whole summer cleaning up in 2011 after Fukushima went haywire and trash started washing up on our coast from Japan. I have glowed in the dark ever since, but other than that, I feel fine. Since then, Save Our Shores, a local environmental group, has been taking good care of the beach. But I guess they took a few months off due to the covid closures because there was quite a bit of trash buildup. Litterbugs never give up in their dastardly quest to dump on America.
Also, I may have discovered Atlantis. Or maybe Canyon de Chelly west. News at eleven.
Mostly, though, it was sand, surf, and birds - a very nice morning.
Peace, Love, and Escapism,
Jim
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