The sea oats on Alligator Point seemed to glow under stormy skies.
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Sea oat silhouettes
Treasure Shores Beach, FL - Aug 23
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Sitting among the sea oats on a sand dune.
Ideogram AI
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This morning‘s view of Carrabelle Beach, Florida, captured by Susan Macken
[Our Little Secret on St. George Island]
* * * *
“I unlatched the shutters. The light was as intense as a love affair. I was blinded, delighted, not just because it was warm and wonderful, but because nature measures nothing. Nobody needs this much sunlight. Nobody needs droughts, volcanoes, monsoons, tornadoes either, but we get them, because our world is as extravagant as a world can be. We are the ones obsessed by measurement. The world just pours it out.”
— Jeanette Winterson, Lighthousekeeping
[alive on all channels]
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Sea Oats, Nags Head, NC. 11/07/2022. Nikon F3HP, Ultrafine Extreme 100.
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sea oats in Turks and Caicos, November 2021
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Sea oats
Folly Beach, SC. November 2012. Photo by M. Lucero.
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Artistic analog photo of a handsome man on a NC beach.
Bing AI
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2700. Half-Made Swan Towel
This is “Half-Made Swan Towel.” I like a bad diet.
Passing through Ocala my car broke down. While the car was getting fixed, I shacked up at a local hotel with a swimming pool in the courtyard. Noel, the tiny clerk at the front desk, kept reminding me the swimming pool was free to guests of the hotel. “The Sea Oats a block down makes you pay extra for the pool,” he assured me. When I asked if it were out of the realm of possibility that his hotel cost a little more to accommodate “free” swimming, he scoffed. “We aren’t even that expensive,” he said, and threw my room card at me. The room itself was dour, smelled pungently of chloroformed roach, and had a spot on the bed I couldn’t identify. I didn’t care. I was sweaty and lost. I stripped down to my boxers and undershirt, grabbed a half-made swan towel off the bed, and made my way to the swimming pool. I sat down and watched the light dance over the surface. After a while, I fell asleep and dreamed of a city in an ancient forest. It was populated—ruled, perhaps even—by humungous banana slugs. They were gentle and kind. They told me I could stay as long as I wanted.
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