Long Lunch

As I lay here in the sun, warm sand under me, the azure water of turquoise nips at my feet. A gentle breeze makes the water dance in the cove, as the dunes behind me make their way, grain by grain, further into the water. This is a fine place, a beautiful moment, a momentous day, living now, here in this beauty, seeing the wonders of color on the water, the blues, greens, and the slight yellows where the sand meets the water. Watching the waterbirds play on the air, their eye's open for any prey. As my lunch break is over, and back over the dunes, piles of sand really, and back toward this monstrosity we call a jobsite, I turn my thought on the water, away from beauty, but to the solution, where do I pump it to, this lake is only half built, it must be drained and finished, the irony of something so beautiful so close to such an ugly place is not lost on me, my dunes being an unfinished railroad spur, my lake, an emergency catch basin should an ammonia tank rupture. This ethanol plant such an ugly sight, such a waste of money, all the usefulness of a pet rock...