A warm bright day. Luminous blue sky over glistening blue sea unfurling wave after perfect wave upon the shore. The steady, sound of the surf calms that constant chatter of the mind, no doubt. As I walk down the street, I wave at a group of five older women sitting, watching the sea, obviously enjoying each other’s company. A solitary man stands still facing the ocean, far from the others on the beach. I wonder if he’s talking to God. My husband has been to the beaches of Ghana, and he tells me of finding individuals on the farthest point of the beach, facing the ocean, talking loudly, gesturing earnestly; he finds out later that they were conversing and sharing their souls’ lament to God. A boy in his early teens, rollerblading joyfully on the sidewalk, gives me a thumbs up, then quickly points to my “Women For Obama” button, to let me know what the winning sign was for.
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