The third in the Montauk Holiday film series. Having more fun with the 7d, the snow, my dog, and anna. On my blog page I wrote this along with it.
The rocks had returned. In the spring they leave and the beach is long and soft with sand that's grey with swirls of crimson. Then, like magic it seems, like children returning home from some summer migration, and almost over night, they come and lay themselves again against the shore as far as the eye can see. Of course logic stands that the rocks are always there, hidden beneath summer's sandy blanket and in the winter, nor'easter's hands upon our beach, the sand is rolled back, taken out to sea, and stored in places deep and dark until spring. It's strange and wonderful, and ironic of course, that the warm winds and tides of summer give us the soft beds of sand for us to lay upon our blankets, and then the cold brittle winds of winter bring rocks and lay them down beneath our booted feat to walk. So, for a time the world is a gentle place, and then once again it is hard and rocky, and so is life it seems. So here's to changing days, and tides, and seasons brought upon us, and here's to loved ones we walk through it all with, especially on days like these.
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