Well, it has been kind of quiet here lately. But I think it's been a good kind of quiet. Like when you're sitting around the campfire on a beach, and all you can hear is crackling wood and and waves gently rolling onto the shore.

So here we are you and I, sitting on the beach just to the side of a palm tree whose fronds rustle as the trade winds stream past. We've been here a while, and I decide to get up and stretch my legs. The moon is bright tonight, and the clouds in the sky are sparse. Orion stands proudly in the night sky as I stroll along the black sand beach, right at the threshold of the water's edge.

A set of waves is tumbling in. The whitewash shimmers on the blackened ocean. The ocean meets my feet and rushes past -- it's slightly cooler than expected. It reaches up the beach, then recedes. For a moment, the sand gets pulled from underneath my feet as I sink an inch or two.

I've wandered far enough from the fire that I can't hear it anymore, but a quick glance over my shoulder reveals its flickering orange glow on the lone palm tree. I look up at the waves, then past them, into the restless and endless ocean.

I take a couple of steps up the beach, out of the reach of the waves, and sit down facing the ocean. There's something floating in about two feet of water. It's reflecting the moon beams. I can't make out what it is, though, maybe it's driftwood? I don't care much. Taking a deep breath, I instead enjoy the sweet smell of the nearby rain forest intermingled with the salty sea breeze.

Okay. Time to get up.

Lethargically.

Strolling back to the campfire, I stare at it's glow. Nobody breaks the silence as I sit back down. Looking at each other, we share smiles, but there's nothing to be said. A piece of firewood pops, drawing our attention back to the embers. Nothing is said and we return to watching the dance of the fire.

Yeah, it's been that kind of quiet around here.