Maimi Beach (Florida Journals)

South Point Beach was a little too cold, a little too windy, and it was a little too late in the day for swimming, so the water was chilly. An intermittent drizzle made it a rather liminal affair with little distinction between water and air. Scud clouds, like a lace tablecloth, draped over the edge of the sky, and a rainbow plunged into the meniscus of the ocean like a deep sea spear. I waded in, tossed about by small outsider waves, and attempted to surf into shore on a bigger wave, but it didn’t have the power to carry me, not like the Pacific. I sank like a stone. The Atlantic is considerably warmer than what I’m used to, but I was still chilled to the bone. The citadel of Miami Beach shone like a white castle in the afternoon sunlight. What really made my day, or rather, afternoon, as it was late and the sun sinking down behind us, was a pair of frigatebirds circling overhead, and I considered it a blessing, not an omen.