A Walk On the Beach, Alone

I'll describe it, since you weren't there:

The beach looks like an abstract painting, with patches of shapes and textures and colors made by dry and wet sand, water, grass, reflections, clouds, and purple islands dotting the horizon line.  Flying, squawking birds occasionally break up the landscape and silence. I see a happy dog and their contented person in the distance, leaving haphazard footprints behind for me to find later on my walk.  I sit and study last night's raindrops embedded like little moon craters in the sand. The clouds build- colors become muted, except for the bright blue of a mother's windbreaker moving along my view of the ocean with her child, far away, out on the endless sandbars. Through it all, there is the backdrop of  the low, rushing sound of the sea, coming and going, so fitting you almost don't notice it.

I am alone at the edge of the land, on Cape Cod, on a chilly day in October.