The beach's ever returning waves are a constant answer to an unposed question.
With the moldable sand that I scooped, with my hand, I made what could have been friums made from boiled rice, first dried in scoops under the sun and then fried for relish. With more scoops, a small well began to form. When the wave, had enough strength to reach me, it smoothed the scoops
and made it look like birds eye view of AZ.
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