We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
As summer begins to reach an end here in the northern hemisphere, I found myself recently alone on a remote beach in Maine soaking up beneficial solar rays with no clothing and no sunscreen. I pulled a small kayak up on the little island's rocky beach, and exulted in Mr. Sun's reaching sweetly into every crack and pore of my imperfect and slightly-aging multi-gravida but decently-athletic body. Mr. Sun doesn't discriminate.
I reflected on the pure animal pleasures as only the human kind of animal can reflect. The delight of touch, like the delight of a warm breeze. A gently rocking boat. The heat of the sun on skin, a breeze through your naked pubes. A hug from a friend or kid. A dog licking your hand. Sexual delights, of course. Powerful. The taboo relief pleasures of peeing and pooing. A hot shower that you hate to leave. The thrill of a violent thunderstorm. The tingle of a spoonful of delicious champagne sorbet or fresh raspberry sorbet. The joy of smacking a tennis overhead onto the sneakers of an opponent on a sunny morning. A hot tomato off the vine. The smell of hot trees and flowers. The pleasure of giving in to gravity onto a cozy bed at the end of a day. The fun of walking into cool air conditioning from a sizzling street, and the fun of walking from a car onto a sizzling beach. A chilly glass or two of chardonnay on the lawn at 5 pm.
Mindless, happy-animal, universal pleasures. Controlled hedonisms with no vomitoria or alcohol- and cocaine-fueled orgies. Each season offers its own set of innocent delights, but summertime offers the most.
Carpe diem, because you and I might not be alive next year. Anything can happen. I believe in working hard and long, but not always being a drudge. What's for supper? Grab a beer and make yourselves a turkey sandwich, family. I ain't cooking.
Bless your heart. #1 for posting my most-favorite-ever picture, and #2 for sharing your hedonism. First went au naturel as a lark but have since discovered serious health benefits (well, between about 10 am and 3 pm in my latitude) and just a lot of plain darned comfort in exposing the entire body to Ole Sol. Heck, even to the shade.
Of course, you're a girl and everyone enjoys seeing a glimpse of boobs. I'm one of the dreaded penis people, subject to arrest and imprisonment if I'm not discreet enough.
Have created the smallest nudist colony on Cape Cod. Actually, the "gateway to the cape". If you ever pass through my neck of the woods be sure to stop in. Between 10 and 3 because if you're not creating Vitamin D then you're probably just enjoying life and that's likely some kind of sin. But damn, that evening breeze make a bit of Purgatory time seem worth it.