so quiet at pebble beach. the war show was distant, the smoke trails and the tiny jets 
toy-like, seeming incapable of killing whole populations. they were smaller than bees.

there was no one but me and mister on the rocks and in the water birds and butterflies flying overhead and underneath, fish. 

i heard the bees up close, the traffic light and distant, everything being relative in scale to one's attention, a blessed feeling seeing, the low traffic hum in the peripheral, the war planes smaller than the bees.