Easter morning is sunny and calm. White-crowned Sparrows call from trees along the Discovery Trail, and an immature Bald Eagle sweeps above me with a fish in its talons. As I crest the berm to the beach, low tide and swishing waves invite a stroll along the shoreline to a beautiful, large piece of driftwood that came ashore overnight.
Drifting along with my thoughts, I note how disconnected from time I feel. Hours wash onward, as a daily routine develops.
The marsh shrinks, large flocks of geese fly north, and the Harrier hunts above the dunes.