It was a soon-to-be-sunny morning. I was in Edmonds with extra time on my hands, so I headed for a driftwood bench lodged in fluffy, grey sand near the ferry dock, and took a seat. The sand was smooth and saturated at the edge of the receding tide. A heron waded in the shallows, bobbing for minnows. I breathed in the salty sea air while distant ferryboats, concealed by thick fog on the sound, honked to alert each other of their whereabouts. The breeze was cool and yet I felt the sun beginning to warm my back from behind the dissolving clouds. Waves lapped. Gulls shrieked. Children frolicked. Power walkers chatted. The water, and the activities on the shore, always help to clear my head and restore my soul.