What a sublime day it was on the playa de nuevo hersey. 70 degrees and a smattering of fisherman, clearly in seventh heaven, their faces serene as they stare out to sea, who cares what they catch? Fishing for stripers. The sea is calm, an old work shirt blue, the skitterbirds delightedly pattering in and out of the waters edge en masse looking for lunch – all is right with the world. I meander this beach and feel part of all that surrounds me, blessed, soft, with bright pink painted nails and pockets full of gold.

Found treasure above, thin, its translucency and color measured in karats, traded in an exchange in which only the young at heart are willing to invest.