I was recently asked what I usually do for fun in the summer, and realized that it basically boils down to being at the beach. Constantly. As in, every single day for the past three days. In a way maybe that’s boring or predictable. Then again, there’s a beautiful sort of consistency to being able to trace memories back to the same place. There’s nowhere else I’ve read hundreds of books over the years, had thousands of important conversations, and spent millions of minutes admiring the ocean, clouds, stars, and sand. Cheers to summer 2012 beginning where it should: 2nd beach.