bumming at the beach

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Sun's rays slanting eastward, kissing my skin, its warmth chasing away the wind's icy touch. Wood-smoke on the air, beach fire, scent of scorched meat--a family roasting weenies. Man and his kite, dipping, twirling, flirting with the breeze. Children with spades, real spades, heaping sand into piles for castles. Sweet buzz of sauvignon blanc on a mostly empty stomach. Sand between my toes, warm against my heels, grounding me. Dungeoness crab and shrimp louie. Sourdough fresh from the breadmaker. More wine. Dipping sweet dark cherries into chocolate fondue. Oralgasmic dessert--the best nature and man can offer. The warmth of a thigh pressed against mine, cool lips on my neck. Feelings of well-being. Warm Fuzzies. Companionship. Voices, lulling, ebbing and flowing like the tide. Conversation...

What are you doing? Silence. My name. Looking up from the moleskine journal, pen halted. R's voice, R's face, weathered and freckled, hair wild--from her helmet, of course. She rode the Harley here with J. Three pairs of eyes, expectant. What are you writing? A dismissive, self-conscious shrug. Recording the moment. A dirty habit, writing. I'm not supposed to do it in public. I'm sorry. Moving to put the journal away, opening jacket pocket. Read it, says J, his voice firm. I am his guest. Complying, I read: Sun's rays slanting eastward, kssing my skin... Their eyes on me, thoughtful, listening expressions. Voice trailing off on "conversation"... Wow, how do you notice that? Does J even know I write? How do you not notice? I ask. C chuckles. He knows me so well. How do you not notice the moment? How do others do it? I'm lost in sensations, sensate me, like a child--see the birdie? Quick! Kiss me, taste the wine and chocolate on my lips, smell the cherries on my breath, breathe me in, save me from self-conscious awareness. Let me just be. Here. Now. With you, in this moment.