Fly your way home

After a week of solid writing, both on the novel and on articles, today is a total day off. I decided to get up early and go to the beach before the sun was too high. My neighbor, Kay, regularly heads for an early morning swim so I rode with her. By 8:30 we were installed on the sand, almost alone, except for the gulls and mountains and the medieval towers on top of the mountains protecting us if Spain ever decides to invade again.

Kay swims. I could be an Olympic gold medalists in wading. The water was warm, but then I am used to the blue-skin creating New England seas.

I finished my wade, she finished her swim and we stretched out on our blankets for a good jaw before heading back to really start our days.

We were not alone. Lady bugs joined us, not one or two, but hundreds. They were not put off by warnings of houses on fire.

The vinters import them each year to protect their grapes, ladybugs being far more eco friendly than pesticides, but I wonder, if like Kay and I who want a quick trip to the beach before starting our day, if these lady bugs were doing the same thing. “Let’s go to the sea, then’ll we get down to work protecting these bloody grape vines.”