I walked around and around alone waiting for shape and then this flew into my skull: the ecstasy of yesterday's plans?

He forgot yesterday's plans while he watched the arrangement of sunlight and waves. Molecules. Atoms. Chemical bonds. The light looked like it was frozen on the surface of the water. Yesterday's plans were displaced by today's thoughts. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook and pencil. The pencil was one of those golf sorts, stubby with a worn off gilt message, and decorated by a chew mark on the end. He wrote "a gull oscillates above the water," in the solid capital letters of an architect or a draftsman. The ideas halted. A mist of sea spray shied across his face and made him think of sex. He couldn't write about her. Study the gull, the sand, the waves, he thought. So much wonder, flight and feathers to cram into a skull in a lifetime.
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Sketch #3 in the Visitor's Book at an Art Gallery Series. The titles of the sketches are the notes left by the visitors.