The weather service posted dire warnings all day. My phone awoke unbidden with a klaxon ( from the Ancient Greek verb klazō, "I shriek) and a robotic oracle's voice raising the alarm, retreat to the the basement or an inner wall. Then the air raid siren sounded a tornado warning, a sighting? I sat in the dark in front of the windows with a glass of blood red wine listening to the rain. A Father's Day equinox. Retirement is not yet a second childhood but a second adolescence, seeking a path a system of values. I left the beach walking west into the sunset smiling blissfully. I saw a large man crossing the street, coming at me, pushing a baby carriage. I wasn't wearing my glasses, the sun was in my eyes, I never saw his face but he gave me a high-five as we passed each other. I assume it was my friend from the beach, talking on the phone, with his new son. I walked north in the lake at dawn, in about 3-4 feet of water, maybe 8 or 10 yards from where the limes...