I've had a lovely day at the coast. During the part when I was actually on the beach, I was almost alone--because it was very windy and raining (well, spitting I call it, very small drops but lots of them driven by the wind). The sand was cold on my feet but I knew the water would be warm, and it was! The stress, despair, and exhaustion of the past few days dropped off me like a snake's shed skin (although it did not, sad to say, lay on the beach and attract gulls, unlike all the broken seashells left by the tide). When I had enough (sooner than usual because of the wind), I danced back up the sand to the foot-washing station and cleaned mine, then gave thanks for good wool socks (bought, someday I'll knit socks but not yet) because I got warm right away once the socks were on, even though my jeans were soaked to the waist and my feet were wet inside my socks. The amazing power of wool!
On the drive home I was gobsmacked by the variety of greens in our forests. There's the brown-green of the almost-dead moss on bare trees, and the just-barely-greenish yellow where some trunks have lost a branch, and the various darker greens shaped by the different needles and branch patterns on the evergreens, and finally the palest pure green confetti shaken on the branch tips reaching out from the deciduous trees.
I've capped the well of sadness for another stretch, long may it be.