Pixie Post

I'm writing an essay. In the study with the view. The sun is shining, although the wind is up, and there's the usual parade of runners and cyclists, little kids with their parents and older couples out for their constitutional. I like seeing them all. I know not everything will be as ideal as it appears, but it's nice. People enjoying each other, and the coastline. But today a car has stopped and a woman has got out and paced up and down the fenceline, while a man stands gesticulating. I turn on my radio so I can't hear them, but the tension in the air is overwhelming. She puts her head on her arms, leaning on the fence. He stands, unmoving, a pace away from her. I notice he doesn't touch her. He drove away. I don't know where she went. The divers have moved 300m from where I first saw them. Flippers in the air, a floating box, for their catch I guess. There are lots of them today, probably because soon it will be a marine reserve, and there'll be no gathering of kai moana allowed. I'd love to join them. A red haired dad strides by, with his red haired son on his shoulders. I hope that woman is okay, but I guess not. Ahh, life.

I'll get back to the essay I guess. 300 words. 2,700 to go. My back hurts, my concentration gone.