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Hello Autumn.
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Though the enchanting, seasonal characteristics of Autumn will be slow in appearing, we devoted Summer's last official day to the beach. Each year my husband has known me, he has attempted to introduce me to the many splendors of his beloved Summer, though I am a Winter lover at heart. Each week he makes a pilgrimage to the beach to spend his time in the surf, the waves rushing he and his board to shore. More occasionally Cohen and I join him and he teaches us about the surfing conditions, the tide, the breaks, the swell.

Our towels lay in the shade of the Banksia trees, which were adorned with their villainous little men. We walked the hot sand, a practiced eye always alert to the possibility of treasure - a lovely shell, sea polished glass, textured coral. In the cool water we splashed, swam and rested, watching the kite surfers skim the surface and the breeze.

At a cafe, a cold spanner crab salad was well worth the effort required to claim the prize. The table number was deemed to be highly interesting. Seagulls approached hopefully and Cohen could not refuse them a chip or two, when he thought we were not looking.

Ice blocks melted and dripped on the way back to the car. Exhausted, Cohen's eyes would flicker and close with the rhythm of the highway, before remembering the clutched ice block. He only just managed to finish it before sleep won him over.

There have been many such wonderful moments this Summer, yet still I'm yearning for a cooler breeze, a blanket to wrap around me and now, knitting on my lap, in the coming months.

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