THE BEACH AT LOW TIDE ON A RAINY DAY – Only a few locals dare to spend time on a walk by-the-sea. The tourists are gone and the beach returns to solitary introspection on a winter rainy day. Heaven. Just me, a few gulls and the usual stalwart surfers. I wander almost all the way to the pier. Going from sea shell to sea shell. Not picking them up, but observing their calligraphic sand trails as the waves brought them up to shore and decorated the beach with their broken or whole beauty. Shells look their best on the beach. Because I am looking and photographing my senses are aware and I can now see the calligraphic patterns in the sand that the waves left as they retreated in their low-tide dance. A musical sonata written in the sand with calligraphic notes embellished with bass notes of stones, soprano notes of tiny shells, harmonic interludes of eel grass & sea kelp and the conductor is a Caspian tern who leads us to a crescendo of surf breaking as the tide changes and high-tide waves start coming in. I go home empty-handed, but with a full heart.