It's a bit early, even for me, to be down here at the beach. Morning came easy for me today, which is just as well since I have 2 days worth to get done in less than one again. The fog, or "marine layer" as we prefer to call it, is still fairly heavy over the water. The buses have just begun assembling to shuttle their cast of characters downtown. The question looms, "what does this day hold?", for all of us. It's still too early to tell.
Things look promising though. There is an orange glow in the haze where the city usually sits. I imagine a sunrise covered in the shroud, optimistically letting us know that the probability is good for another clear day. It's that time of year, late summer, when things look promising, but the verdict is still out. A new school year approaches...new teachers, new subjects, new friends...so much promise of what might be. It's still early though. One never knows, there could be things so much greater than anticipated...joy and challenge...laughter and tears. I'll take laughter for 500 Alex.
It seems like I'm in that phase everywhere I turn. I'm approaching another year older and deeper in debt. Really it's just another year older...my wife keeps us out of debt. I'm about to become g-pa for the second time. It seems like just last year that my little girl was married. Oh wait, it was just last year. In my life as pastoral artist things are gearing up for Fall. It's like the calm before the storm. Many new faces making new commitments. It has all the signs of being the best season yet as a community of faith, but I've been around long enough to know that it's still too early to know how much early promise will turn into actual practice.
The fishermen are out now and drifting across the bay. They don't question. The marine layer is just fine for them. The bus schedules are not a priority. For them it's never too early to tell. After all, everyone knows that a bad day fishing is still better than a good day at the office.