Waiting for the next high tide

Musings and phrases scribbled on another piece of paper:

• boats enjoying the smooth or choppy surfaces
  
• gulls going wherever gulls go at night
  
• noisy blackbirds in the trees, signaling the last light of day
  
• wind grasping and releasing the canvas
  
• tide churns and lays a log from distant shores
  
• fall leaves curled like a baby's small hand
  
• new moon carrying a space in the heavens
  
• sea-seasoned driftwood burning forms and faces
  
• dying embers pleading for an encore to come
  
• dark paper cutout, silhouette of sea pines
  
• looking down at our feet in a carpet of blue lupine and California poppies
  
• frustrated beached logs waiting for the next high tide
  
• the stars twinkling in her eyes, finding her first starfish
  
• the sun setting, focusing on the boats on the bay
  
• the Nancy O, "Prince," "Fancy Dancer"
  
• the little clutch of rowboats Jeanne, Doris, Frank, Betty, named after us cousins
  
• ocean turning from blue to green to pewter
  
• strings of white lights fingers the wharf
  
• palette of bright colored neon along the wharf in snake-like letters
  
• late coffee with a dollop of the Irish
  
• out of "a Chinese", each mildly bad situation
  
• or "go to the sea shore"
  
• In sleeping bags until the sun gives promise of warmth