Ocean Beach

The heat of the sun has warmed a billion grains of golden hued sand. They glitter, the multitude of black brown, tan and glassy white, which sparkle like jewels or stars against a pale sky.  Down low, at eye level with the sand, it is an endless expanse, a Sahara of pointed dunes and valleys and not a speck of green.

Ten feet away is a burned up 2x4, the last remnant of a bonfire. It is charred almost all the way through, black and speckled and white with ash, though on one side, the last three inches are untouched by flame.  The right angles are completely intact, as perfect as the day it was cut in a mill long ago.
To the left is a dark blue sea. Incessant waves roll in, not a moment of lag time between the breaking crests which create a constant roar drowning out all other sounds of children playing, seagull squawks or the cars along Highway 1.

Two small land masses sit just off the coastline just about 100 feet from shore. Birds flock to them en mass and cover them with fluff and droppings. Two black seagulls coast on the constant breeze while dozens more sit on the sand in a tight group.

To the right is a gray cement sea wall. Every 100 feet is a flight of seven stairs leading up to the street and the parking lot.  Graffiti speckles the hard canvas, dozens of tags in big balloon letters testify to a midnight voyage, a clandestine moment.
Past the parking lot and Highway 1 is a group of pale orange apartment complexes. To the right of those is a collection of multi-colored townhouses: green, blue, gray, pale gray, and a dull mauve. Behind the townhouses is a hill covered in deep green cypress and interspersed yellow-green shrubs, at the top of which is a small water tower. 
Highway 1 curves along the side of the hill winding out of sight.

Close to the water people walk together mostly in pairs.  Two teenagers, one of them wearing a Batman t-shirt with attached hood and bat ears, have picked up a discarded beach chair. They carry it towards the water, their shoes balanced on the plastic seat as they navigate the sandy terrain.
A flock of black birds takes off from the sand heading west, then quickly change course and fly east.