I wear my mask often, but not here where the air feels fresh and waves in motion move with the moon.
I’m conscious to pass by other people with a wide berth, and they do the same, mostly.
I watch clouds zing through the sky.
And I see two children wearing masks as they sit building a sand city. Maybe they came from two different families, but I can’t help but feel a longing for them to run free on the beach—fearless and in wonder.Continue reading “Rockaway Beach & the Blue Plastic Pail”