This afternoon I came across a Wall Street Journal piece worth sharing. Robert Pinsky writes on vacations, poetry and the beach:
Possibly to prove I was a good packer and possibly because I can't resist the ocean, I said I had a bathing suit—let's see the beach. Within a few minutes I was practically whimpering with happiness, scraping myself raw on the coral, gazing at fish the colors of parrots, clowns, neon lights. Abundant crowds and chorus lines of them. I couldn't stop, couldn't make myself get out of the water. Sometimes the world's beauty simply takes over.