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Waterfront Property The salty, sticky smell of the ocean served notice of our imminent arrival. The heat, mixed with ocean air, acted as a tonic, causing us to chortle and beam. We approached the drawbridge on Memorial causeway. The feel and bouquet of the salt in the air emitting from the Gulf of Mexico is unsurpassable. The Jeep, idling, waiting for the drawbridge to close. The sun was beating down, the breeze blowing from south to north through the open vehicle. An open bow Boston Whaler tailed by a twin outboard Scarab coasted through the No Wake Zone until they reached the Resume Safe Speed sign at Marker #3 at which point their throttles opened and a fish tail of ocean spray shot into the air like Old Faithful exploding. The pelicans flocked to the lone fisherman, surrounding the old angler like an audience. Gulls soared through the cloudless sky racing the parasailers. And I watched.
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