I’d like to write some fiction, but it seems like my head is too full of my own life right now to make up a different reality. The pictures of the beach seemed a bit like a metaphor for my own life. I’ve been walking along, on my own for a while now. The scavengers have come and gone in my life. Now I’ve hit the “keep off” sign, don’t know quite where my life is going. That last picture has such a narrow focus, you can’t see what’s to either side of the dunes. There has to be an open path somewhere, the dunes don’t make up the rest of existence, but if you focus only on that, the path that can’t be taken, life seems pretty dreary. I’m widening my view, looking for new and better paths. Life is a beach.