Last week, Adella and I stole away to Topsail before she had to get ready for college. It was a magical time of breezes, sunshine, humidity, heat, and a thunderstorm that, as my father would say, would make a believer out of you. I took this photo the morning after that storm. I had a lovely walk on some packed-down sand into the cool air. It was interesting for me to watch the early morning unfold: surf-casters were out there with their fishing poles, dog people were playing catch, turtle people were keeping the beach right, sandpipers were hunting for breakfast, and there I was in my sneakers making the same walk I had made every day we had been there. How was this possible after several hours of excruciating thunder, lightning, wind, and rain? Why didn't the world look different? Feel different? Make us stop and wait and do something to show we noticed what had happened the night before? The hard sand of that morning made me think of the words of one o