Some days just hand you a gift, and today was one of those days.

I usually start my walk on the north shore of Anna Maria Island, at a place called Park Avenue — wouldn’t you know it. From there, I head up past the Sandbar and continue about three-quarters of the way toward the Point. It’s not a long walk, but it adds up to around 8,000 steps. I kind of shimmy my way up the beach — sometimes dancing, sometimes skipping. Today was more skipping than dancing, but honestly, it’s hard not to dance when you’re out there. The beach does that to you.

It was overcast this morning, and when the sky looks like that — soft, gray, and moving — and the wind is blowing just enough, something magical happens to the water. It turns this crystal-clear emerald green, almost glowing from within. Then you start seeing these reflections of blue layered over it, sometimes even drifting into a purply tone. It’s hard to describe, but it’s absolutely beautiful. I could stand there forever just watching it change.

I took a picture today where the water is rolling gently up over the beach, and it almost looks like wet putty — smooth, soft, and pliable. The sand has that perfect texture where it’s damp enough to shine, but still pale and clean. Everything feels calm and alive at the same time. Those moments are breathtaking. They stay with you. They’re the kinds of moments I want to paint.

As I walked, I kept noticing the grass along the side of the beach — how green it was against the white sand.

The path looked so inviting, almost glowing in its simplicity. The sand was that bright, beautiful white that makes everything else feel lighter. It’s funny how, when you really slow down and look, everything starts to feel like a small gift. Nothing flashy. Just quietly perfect.

The wind today was strong — about 18 miles an hour, gusty enough that you really feel it. Most people stayed away because of that, so the beach was nearly empty. But I love days like that. When the wind is at your back and you open your arms, it feels like flying. You just let it carry you down the shoreline, and for a few moments, everything else disappears.

There’s something about overcast, windy days that brings out colors you don’t see when the sun is blazing. The light is softer. The reflections are deeper. The water feels more expressive. Those are the days that speak to me as an artist. Those are the days when I come home knowing I’ve seen something I’ll want to paint later.

Today was one of those days.