With much activity in my life and in my head, with a flight to catch in a few hours-- I felt a tug to flee. Instead of a long shower before take off-- I opted for a quick trip to the beach. I jumped on a trick bike and flew down the hills of Manhattan Beach and headed for the pier. The wind hit my face so hard, that I looked back to see if my anxieties were caught up in the gust. The sun felt good and soon, I began to slow my peddling. Once at the pier, I stopped and listened. Faint giggles from the kids climbing the sand dunes, a mandolin, a guitar, waves rolling in, seagulls, under riding currents of advice and conversation. While full, it seemed that everyone on the pier had a common respect for each other's needs. Peace. Quiet. Soulfulness. Some reached for it far into the ocean, some baited their wishes on a line and fished for it, some serenaded lady peace and some found her in their books. They walked, they ran, they played, they read, they sat, they thought, they listened. What is best, I decided, is that they all stopped. For this one moment, they stopped life and made this morning happen. I watched them and I wondered,

Is this the beginning of a new week or the end of the last?

In finding my own peace, I photographed them all. Once taken, I said hi and shared with them their beautiful moment. Then, I emailed their shots to them on the spot. I left feeling like I had received, but also like I had given. That was enough to get me on that flight with a free-er mind and a lighter load-- which is good, 'cause you get charged extra for heavy baggage these days, you know.