Yesterday was another day of the sort that lets you know spring is struggling to break through. The morning was grey and rainy, but the air was warm. I took the air plants out to the porch and hung them up so they could bask in the humidity. I have them rigged up on hangers, and even I think they are a bit unsightly, but they're so happy swirling around in the warm, humid breeze that I can't bear to bring them back inside.
I wanted to take the dog somewhere, and waited for the sky to clear—it was nearly black to the west, and I waited to see which direction it was moving. After some hours, the sky was still grey and threatening to burst any minute. so I realized I was just going to have to take my chances. I bundled Lainey in the car, where she curled up sweetly in the back seat, and drove down to the beach.
It was really windy, but there were hardly any people there. A group of men was playing soccer on the sand, using the yellow metal trash cans pained with palm trees as their goals. There was a lot of foam on the shore, and I passed two children playing with it like it was snow. I suppose it'd the best we can do down here.
There were lots of gulls, and I spent a long time next to a woman who was feeding them, tossing bread up in the air so they were flying low in a cloud over her head. Her two dogs were off leash, and patient, not trying to catch the birds at all. A little boy walked up and wanted to try, and she gave him some bread. It was really magical.
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