I saw Mark for about 15-20 minutes a day on my graveyard shifts. So, it felt like a blessing to be able to enjoy a long walk/hike/climb around Fort Funston on my weekend.
We watched packs of dogs run into the ocean. Some of them nudged our legs and wagged “hello.” We snapped photos of waves crashing and rock formations. We spotted a crab beaching itself on the shore.
We walked into an old army bunker covered in graffiti.
My legs burned when we had to climb up the steep hill from the beach. We poked around the spot where hang gliders jump off.
We held hands.
It’s a good life.