Les UDs will return in the fall, when excess heat and excess crowds go away.

The main thing to convey is the silver blue of the sand; but all elements – all – shone with overwhelming clarity.
Words like pellucid, electrical. Gulls cut hard against the ultramarine. You could feel the sunlight on your back at four pm in November.
The unseasonable. The uncanny. The great calm of the ocean summoned a mirage of whales. The great sweep of beach and water.
And so your psyche sought the same level, the same evenness of temper; and the land and seascape was so overwhelming
That it wasn’t serenity but absence: The surrender of your turbulence to an airtight argument.
And UD’s little beachstone collection. Breakfast on the balcony – from the iconic Papillon! – as a thunderstorm readies itself.
Sun floods the room at six
Two steps to the balcony to watch
Tai chi social media bagpipe cigar
Distant gaze usual metaphysical confusion
Boardwalk stroll for latte and scone
Superhearty good mornings from fellow oldies
Translation: GRATEFUL LIKE HELL I'M HERE
Here meaning the world rather than
Whatever's behind the metaphysical curtain
Latte machine broken so cafe person
Climbs almost to the top of it while cafe people
On the ground make inadequate latte after latte
All apologize I'm fine take your time
Boardwalk stroll back to the balcony
More greetings from gratefuls
And now: Grateful metaphysical breakfast
A sign in Rehoboth Beach. Scathing Online Schoolmarm remains fascinated by the idiotic things people do with quotation marks.
Blogging continues.
… in Rehoboth Beach.
In other exciting news, UD got up from lying on the beach and waved goodbye as the president’s helicopters passed over her on their way back to DC.
AND: It may be November, but UD has a serious sunburn on her face.
Farther left, out of this shot, a Coast Guard ship protects the president, who’s here for the weekend.