By Carl Sandburg
On the breakwater in the summer dark, a man and a
girl are sitting,
She across his knee and they are looking face into face
Talking to each other without words, singing rhythms in
silence to each other.
A funnel of white ranges the blue dusk from an out-
going boat,
Playing its searchlight, puzzled, abrupt, over a streak of
green,
And two on the breakwater keep their silence, she on his
knee.
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Monday involved laundry, bathroom cleaning and other exciting chores like that, plus some computer work and a bunch of hunting in the closet for a bag I still haven't found. It was a gorgeous mid-70s afternoon, and I know how lucky we are from talking to people elsewhere; we walked to the beach, saw many ducks, geese, herons, and eagles, and I got to try out my new tie-back baseball cap that hopefully will be harder for the wind to blow off my head.
We watched the Orioles shutout of the Rangers, then we watched some more Bad Batch with Cheryl around dinner (veggie chickn marsala). We went out to see the ducklings at twilight and now we're watching the third episode of season four of Resident Alien, in which Harry must live as a human and Eleanor is the best. Going back a couple of weeks, these are photos from the Victoria breakwater around Ogden Point and over the water:
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