There is a large and powerful lake right near where I live, but I rarely see it. A mass of freshwater in a world of drought but I usually forget it is even there. Last night I visited a friend who was staying in a house right on the lake. We walked down to a wild and private forlorn beach littered with debris. Plastic of every variety, worn stones, old red earth bricks broken and softened by the water into rounded forms, and mounds of driftwood, pale and gray. It was really windy, the water rough, but peaceful somehow, a Hypnotizing view. I saw so many different things from varying lives that had found a resting place on that beach. My photos aren't very good, but what stories those old rocks and debris could tell! I felt like I had traveled through an immense space as I journeyed From the quiet of my home to the wilderness we met on that beach. I shouldn't have stayed away for so long.