Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Southward-Ho: Day 8 (Venice to Orlando)

A few feet into the soft silvery sand of Venice beach, the sandals are quickly shed. It's still a few short weeks before the snowbirds from the rust belt (and Canada) arrive, so it feels like a private beach. Visitors can count the number of fellow beachcombers on one hand.
There's a bikini-clad 20-something girl stretched out on a faded striped beach towel catching some early morning rays.

Standing knee deep in sun-warmed Gulf waves, a lone fellow culls for shells.
The only sounds are the waves, native birds and the soft crunch of steps on the footbridge.

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