A beach in the Dominican.
Wow the wind! An attempt at normalcy-comfortably lounging with a book- becomes a battle against the elements. We should just take example from the sand blasted dogs. They lie curled up and tired, heads down low, not much notice of the stinging sands like thousands of tiny needles coating the skin. They are nearby, but not. They are guarded and guarding. A bread crust tossed their way is too much to fetch. Lethargy in their eyes. a wonderment. Dogs that I know do not behave as such. My mind is confused at the sight. Tourists lie in chairs, sipping rum drinks. Backs against the unrelenting wind. The ocean, the beach, the horizon – a scene that stands the test of time. Never stops being beautiful. Just to be there, even though it is harsh in ways-still warms and tans the skin. A beach here is a beach anywhere- except for the dogs. Meandering, lazy, slow dogs, heads down with no where else to go.
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