Today it was mostly about how the scents can dominate the memory.  The tide was extra-low, and the beach extra-deep.  It seemed like a whole new place, with very shallow long ponds forming bands parallel to the tide lines where the sand was normally submerged.  Another map forming.  Maps shift; they are not static.  Ponds and sand and waves and ponds and sand, all shimmering in the setting sun.

But walking back, the eucalyptus was suddenly on the wind, filling its breath with its pungency.  The salt and seaweed faded,  only wisps from a few moments before.   The shrubs and cacti bent away from the wind; perhaps they too were bowing grandly to the fullness of the eucalyptus.

I hadn’t noticed the eucalyptus there before.  It was new to me in my three weeks at the beach.  How could that be?  And what will tomorrow give me?

I write this and fill myself again with the unusual peace.  I am restless as the water and yet the water calms me.  It seems of me, yet out of me.  Such is the world of otherness?