The Evening Constitutional

That's what my granddaddy called it -- the walk he took in the cool of the evening, after supper. A constitutional. Good for the constitution. After supper, Adam took a walk, but I took my constitutional on wheels. I rode my bike down one of our town's dapple-shaded lanes.

As I near the end of it, I can just begin to see the water, in the distance behind the trees. If you look closely, you can see Adam, walking Sandy on her leash.
As I turn the corner, the water is bigger.
Another corner, and the liquid vista opens before me.
One more curve, and I'm on the river! It doesn't look, feel, sound, or smell like a river. It's salty -- it's clearly ocean.
We sit in the Adirondack chairs and gaze at the calming water. It's a grand evening for sailing. I counted nine sailboats bobbing along.
Sandy relaxes.
And I got a simple date with my cutie-pie. Why do we get to live here? It's a mystery. We both feel as if we're on vacation. One lady I met at the Farmer's Market said she felt like she was on vacation for two years, after moving here. Two years! Will it take us that long to recover from this pleasurable shock? What a blessing!
Constitutionals like that are certainly good for the soul, aren't they?