staring at water

we had spent the whole morning staring at waves from sandlots /log jams and waist high summer thistle grass our pants soaked~ our hair covered with hood and hat

downjackets, hands on camera, telescope /binocular /a chilly cup of coffee and a weather radio squeaking the report, that we just couldn't see from here~ at the actually beach,

the air so very vibrantly wet with foggy rain the waves sucked down to some proto cataclysmic

levels, all the sand bars that were ever going to be born exposed~ raw ~ useless

and way the fuck out at sea the waves crashed with one heaving roll

that's a long paddle out~ someone thought, looked back to the vans and sipped

waiting for the sun /waiting for some semblance of summer~

let it fill in a little someone decides and turns to walk back to the vehicles and

let's go check Realto

we could paddle across the river, someone else suggests and shivers

by the time we'd get anywhere the wind would be howling / on it

our suits would be dry and we would just have to suit up

after eating /goofing /hiking and driving

the water would turn green and pull us out to sea

against our will

and better judgment.