Spring days used to always smell like this. Of seaweed-tangled mussels at low tide. Of cat-tail smoke and creosoted piers. Of salt. And beyond the ticky-tack of the boardwalk, I’d wander the dunes until sunset. Blanket in hand, I’d crawl across the sand to lie in the sun’s last rays where seagulls circled and circled … Continue reading Of salt, in gray