I sat quitely on the trail above the cave, watching the waves crash while I drank my coffee and enjoyed a wild, blueberry muffin.
A dog passed, followed by its owner.
Moments later a lady in white, clutching the Sunday New York Times Magazine passed from the opposite direction. I made the mistake of looking up when I heard her talking, thinking she was talking to me instead of herself.
Her five-minute rant about dogs running loose, exposing themselves to people with allergies and pooping on the trail almost sounded lyrical with her eastern European accent.
The dog had clearly ruined her day.
Both she, the dog, and the bird, just made me smile.