The week before all hell broke loose in the Southland we were vacationing on the beach.
I love beaches of all sorts but my favorites tend to be those along the Atlantic. Shells in abundance, driftwood, fossils, sea glass, shark's teeth and all manner of treasures come ashore, best found at low tide when the waters are far, far away.
Walking the shell line is my beach-time passion. Not one for hot sun you'll find me walking the lines early mornings and late afternoons "assuming the position," cup or bucket in hand, leaning over in hopes of finding another olive shell, cockle shell, calico scallop, angel wing, baby's ear, whelk and other beauties. I have even found seahorses lodged amid tangles of kelp, sadly no longer living. Once I found a fossilized sea biscuit which are millions of years old. Egg casings of various creatures wash ashore alongside the odd jellyfish. Each finding piques my interest in the ocean, stoking the embers of my curiosity.
Skimming the crest of waves were the ubiquitous brown pelicans and gulls but also a few surprises - cormorants and swallows. Various long-legged shorebirds skimmed wet sands for tasty meals, comically avoiding waves at the last second.
The weather wasn't sunny-beach-perfect, thank goodness. I am so odd that way but I prefer beaches with clouds and wind with waves crashing high and hard. The ocean changes color depending upon the skies, which I adore. The deep grayed blue green of a stormy ocean is one of my favorite colors. And yes, it reminds me of my lake albeit a "bit" more dramatic.
Walking to the beach that first day I could smell the ocean before I saw it. I threw my arms open wide and gulped in the salty taste, laughed at the sky, ran to the water and put let the salty waves crash upon my toes. Life is GOOD.
More to come.....