Sunday, August 28, 2011


There are wild ponies that live on the beach here. It’s also called “duck”. We don’t see the ponies, or ducks, but we stay with Tess’ friend on the lake and the house is huge and white and has it’s own jetty. We can finally sleep with windows open and there is a breeze. We take the boat out for an hour, lounge around the pool and eat tacos at the pier watching men play a makeshift game on Kayaks with paddles as swords and trashcan lids as shields. All of the “shacks” here are triple storied and look expensive even though they’re made of wooden slats and haven’t been painted in years. Everything is white and washed out - the sand, the house, the scrubland…There is a lake on one side and the coast on the other.

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