So it's been a while. But here is a little sorbet for those of you who like that stuff.

The sky is a beautiful red, the mountains a stone blue. Silver water lines the wet shore that has been today's picnic.

The life these waters have seen, Oh, the footprints this sand has felt. That of lovers, that of haters, that of life and that of death. Prints walking towards each other, prints parting forever. Imprints of little hands picking up after a wobbly fall on their first sand ever. Footprints of big dogs, and mini-prints of small dogs. Blanket prints, bbq prints, book prints, firewood prints. Washed away sandcastles and names written with sticks. Flat rock prints that have been skipped across the surface by little boys of all ages. A surface disturbed by many things. Sailboat wakes and rowboat wakes, ski boat wakes and kayak wakes. Sea Doo Wakes and swimming wakes. Shivers just waiting to catch the next adventurer.

Little rocks and big rocks. Grass and tall green oaks. A quiet stream under a planked footbridge. Children still digging to China, couples sitting quietly near, simply content to be. Friends standing and talking, hands in pockets with pants rolled at the ankles. As the sun turns in for the night, the bonfires come to life.

A puppy prances on by connected to a leash held by his man, who is connected to his woman who strolls contentedly along the shore. Dark silhouettes fade in the distance. Who are they? And why are they here? Who is their dog? Have they had dinner yet? What are their passions? Are they in love? Are they happy? Are they whole? They casually bump shoulders while walking. Yes, I decide. They are in love. They have a wonderful long story to be told over a nice cappucino and homemade biscotti. They are a delightful couple. I am glad they graced the beach tonight. The world needs more people like them.

The two sided sky amazes me with blue tones on one side, and the fiery sky meeting the east on the other. A non-existent miniskirt walks by that matches the sunset perfectly. God in all things.

Brilliantly shining slices of cloud are glowing right above the sun's point of escape - so bright and lustrous. Take me there. It must be wonderful with colors that bright and light so golden, it couldn't be anything less than absolute peace.

The silent couple has become the cuddly couple. With one arm wrapped around, an awkward affection satisfies them both and she moves back. Was this out of contentment or fear? Are they happy? She looks cold. A light breeze rustles against my ear. I tuck my blanket closer. Bonfire smoke gently towers with a stone colored coldness, the same as the sunless sky has become.

Two women laugh over by the rocks. Dark sunglasses seem only a point of inconvenient fashion now with dusk engulfing the missing afternoon. They smile. Their presence is welcome. What is their life that two grown women can escape to come play on a Sunday night? I want that. I always want to be able to play.

Another couple. A tiny woman and a large man. Arms crisscrossed claiming ownership of their joy. They casually become silhouettes as they stroll down the shore.

There must be something at the other end of the beach I do not know about. It must require one to be in love. I hope I get to find out soon.

As my toes begin to numb, as well as my seat, I realize the sun is gone. My time is spent and home is calling. Home is calling. Home is calling.