Beach Colors

There's nothing more colorful than a beach town.  People have to paint more often because of the sunshine, salty air and constant winds.  Here, their chosen colors are bright and cheerful, boldly standing out in the clear sunshine, stark against bright white clouds and blue skies. 

Bright colors lure in patrons more readily than do dark, brooding colors for who wants to brood at a beach?  People themselves don straw hats bestowed with flowing scarves (protection, of course), loud t-shirts and shorts.  They fly colorful kites, lie upon neon beach towels, schlep dazzling totes overflowing with flashy beach goodies that rivals a box of 64 Crayola crayons.  Their very skin glows from the sun's tint, shiny with oils and lotions.  One finds more smiles per capita at any beach town.  One simply can't be brooding and frowning at a beach.  It's simply not possible.  (...cranky children are the exception...)

Salty air, fresh seafood, children laughing, sunshine blazing, gulls calling, waves crashing - a beach town has a way of lightening ones load, carving out grins and cleansing lungs and souls. 

After living in such a bright, happy place can I ever go back to town living?  We are pondering that very thing.  Should we stay or should we go? 

I miss some things about town living, but would feel a hole left by the colorful houses and palm trees.  Most of all, I would mourn the loss of vast stretches of sunshine and clouds.  Here, my soul has been lifted and my heart has found a new song. 

Beach Treasures

My personal goals for this beach adventure are simple.  Rest, eat healthy, walk abundantly, explore unceasingly, breathe deeply, reconnect with myself and my spouse.  We have been extraordinarily blessed with visits by friends and family since arriving so in between various Me Times I've enjoyed this place through their eyes as well.

A favorite time remains the early mornings.  Long, early walks with Baylee followed by long solitary walks on the beach picking up treasures.  Amazing finds continue to be these fabulous green rocks that the wild, wild sea throws up onto the beach.  Some were too large to carry back, sadly, but the ones I could manage were hoisted under one arm and slogged back to the house, soaking my t-shirt and making my arms quiver with exertion.  What fun!  Free rocks!  Free BEAUTIFUL rocks!  I'm saving up for a rock garden that I'm designing in my head.

This is the first one that I found, all nestled among the dunes next to our walkway. It's a chaos of blues and greens with what I thought to be rusty places embedded throughout.

Upon closer inspection these appear to be fossilized areas of some sort.  Still, there is rust or something there.  I purchased a rock and minerals book to help me identify these rocks but no such luck.  I need a degree in geology simply to understand what they're trying to get through to me.  I'm as dense as a ... rock.  I have scads of these rocks, various shapes and sizes lining the front hallway just waiting for their place to be created.

Some have barnacles crusted on them.

They are so beautiful.
(Blogger refuses to let me center this...go figure...)

This one is small but spectacular.  The camera just can't do it justice.  Shades of chartreuse with these same rusted fossilized places.

I see a face.  Can you? 

When there are no rocks to be found I pick up bits of beach stuff like these bits of petrified wood, likely from the gazillion shipwrecks that line the eastern coast.  At least that's what the romantic in me likes to believe. 

The big surprise has been discovering WWII 50 caliber machine gun bullets driven into the sand by the waves.  These are very heavy, but if the Wild, Wild Sea can hoist boulders onto the beach a "little" bullet wouldn't be a challenge at all.  These come from Fort Fisher, just south of where we are.  During WWII Army soldiers stationed there would fire practice rounds out into the ocean.  Amazingly, these bullets tumbled around the sea and ended up back where they began.

 And then there are the shark's teeth.  These are all fossils, except for the grey one which I suspect is in the process of fossilization.  ?  The two large black blobs at the top are chunks of fossilized turtle carapaces, and the little white circle is a vertebra from some huge fish, likely a shark.  I was quite proud of my little collection until a neighbor showed me a fossilized shark tooth he found that was, I swear, about 4" long and very thick.  Wow.  These are mostly white shark teeth.  Some are too damaged and some too odd for this amateur to identify.

The power of this ocean always thrills me.  Huge waves, powerful currents, the ebb and flow of vast tides, the migrating birds and sea life, the grandeur of this place - I'm blessed to be here.  Looking forward to seeing what Autumn is like on the beach.  Thank you all for hanging in here with me.  I have missed reading your blogs, missed keeping up with you all, and have missed writing and photographing nature.  However, I think my personal tide is still in the process of changing.  Blessing to you all...

Ocean Karma

Beach living usually involves churning sand and foaming waves, soft sounds of laughter muted by the ocean winds, shells and sunrises, cold beers and hot, good reads under canopies, sweat-cooled skin that smells of coconuts.  Simple acts of swimming and walking, watching and enjoying.  Oftentimes, however, events snap you out of your walking Zen and remind you just how wild this place really is.  Recently, several instances of happenstance did just that to me.

We were walking on the pier with friends seeing what the local fishermen/women were pulling in out of the depths.  Young men were wave boarding on the north side of the beach close to the pier.  Kinda like skate boarding but they pop up the waves, skimming flat boards along the surf out into the ocean and pop, pop, pop up the waves, curling around just like skateboards on concrete curls.  Fascinating.  And not only to me.  As we were watching from high above an 8 foot shark - sand or bull - got within mere feet of these boys before the lifeguards blew whistles and closed the beach.  Right behind the shark cruised a massive southern stingray, easily 4 feet wide.  They circled around for some time before disappearing into the gloom.

 

The most wonderful blessing of ALL came the next day.  A completely mind-blowing split second in time.  A happenstance.  A stroke of luck.  A looking in the right place at the right time thing.  A friend and I were sitting on the beach, reading.  Being quiet.  Just us.  The weather was blustery and partly cloudy.  We couldn't put up the canopy for the winds, which were all wild and willy-nilly.  I was reading the latest from a local author titled "Cape Fear Murders," a piece of fiction by an author wanting to be like Janet Evanovitch.  The ocean was the color of bronze, and I found myself fascinated by the waves which came ashore crossing each other from different directions, creating these swirling eddys of foam and ripples as they washed high ashore.  It was so pretty, mesmerizing, zen, meditative.  The waves were coming in from the southwest, basically, and were huge, massive things.  Swimming was impossible.  Shorebirds were feasting in the foam and pelicans and terns were struggling in the winds.  I found it impossible to read because the sight before me was more interesting.  I've got to set this up for you just right because the sighting was very short.  But important.  Life-changing?  Maybe.  Likely.  Anyway, to the thing.  I was just sitting and staring and suddenly a whale breached the surface.  Seriously.  It jumped up in my direction, like heading toward me.  It was right beyond the point where the waves break - very close.  I made some noise and pointed out toward the ocean.  My friend was like, "What?!  What?!"  I couldn't speak, I was so stunned.  Her eyes followed my pointing finger and a few seconds later we saw it's tail fluke flipping up.  My first thought before seeing the tail fluke was that it was a manta ray because of the coloration and lack of dorsal fin, except that it was huge, massive, thick.  The tail fluke cemented the fact that we saw a friggin' whale off the coast of North Carolina.  My friend had her smart phone and did some research.  We determined that it must have been a right whale, although their migration is usually December-March.  Still, whales don't read so they can traverse that path whenever they damn well please. 

I saw a whale.  A.  Whale.  To this day I am dumbfounded.  So, that's the best news, the best time, an event that I can still "feel," if you know what I mean.  Oh, and immediately after the whale breached the surface I looked around and no one else had seen it.  People were playing in the sand, walking the shore, the lifeguard was bored, sunbathers and book readers and shark-teeth finders - not one had noticed the whale.  How many whales have breached while I had my nose pointed toward the sand looking for fossils?  What a sobering thought.

This morning I just happened to wake early and decided to go take sunrise photos.  The sunrise was pretty, and I did get some photos.  However, walking south to check on the two turtle nests just down the beach I spied these little tracks.  Lots of these little tracks.  They look just like the baby turtle track images on my Pleasure Island Sea Turtle Project t-shirt.  I flagged down the sea turtle patrol to ask, but he said they weren't baby turtle tracks.  I'm not sure what they are.  Any idea? That's my footprint lower left for scale.  Beach tracks fascinate me.  Foxes, cats, crabs, birds and now these.  How fun is this? 

Enjoy the happenstances in your life.

Still walking...

It's true - move to the beach and people will come.  And come, and come, and come.  I have loved every single minute with visitors both family and friends, and we've more company a'comin' in August and September.  This is the longest I've gone without blogging in quite some time! 

We've shared sunrises and sunset together, eaten our weight (and then some) in fresh seafood and amazing local produce, traveled the ferry multiple times, strolled charming beach front shops and explored historical areas.  Each visitor brings something new to the overall beach experience.  This is a joyful time I shall always remember.

My personal journey ebbs and flows like the tides.  Sometimes I grow in great, repeating splashes and sometimes my growth curls into itself like a wave sloshes around in an eddy on the beach - going nowhere fast.  That's okay for I recognize the patterns now.  It's just part of the process.

Just like after each passing storm my personal beach changes.  Sometimes I'm all wonky, going up and down like the back of a dragon.  And at other times I'm flat, saving my sands for another day.  At times treasures crowd my sandy feet arousing my curiosity while the next day the sea refuses to share.  I've found fossilized white shark teeth, metal and wood from shipwrecks, the fossilized carapace from a sea turtle, corroded 50 caliber machine gun bullets and other items yet to be identified.

Today is the 2nd anniversary of the hubby's fall off a ladder.  He is doing very well and we are counting our blessings today.  Pop the cork! 

Walking the Labyrinth

I'm shocked that it's been so long since I've posted here.  We have been making our acquaintance with the local hospital and cardiologists as the hubs decided to have another "event" as soon as we arrived.  Nothing major, but enough to cause concerns.  Sigh.  Two rounds of company later - already planned and sorely needed - the hubs on new meds - I finally got a haircut - we are back into Relax Mode.

This place is paradise.  There is a magical, mystical quality to the air here.  It's fresh, clean and fills my lungs like nothing else.  Remember as a child that feeling you got in your lungs after swimming all day?  Or being outside all day?  How fresh the inside of your lungs feel?  And how relaxed your body is?  It's that.

I've begun to do something I call "walking the labyrinth."  Solitary walks along the beaches, or boardwalks, or pathways.  Mainly the beaches.  Most times the camera isn't invited because of the constant wind and sand.  The companion in my hand is a net/bag within which I place treasures.  Pieces of metal and pottery from shipwrecks that line the coast, usually just offshore.  Shipwrecks from Civil War and the WW's.  Special shells.  And trash, of course.  I'm only now beginning to learn the local history.

At the river/lake my Summer Toe color was a cool blue.  Here, I've found a bright shade of turquoise called "Ocean," which fits my new persona.  Turquoise, fuchsia and bright white are my new colors.  The beach is sinking into my psyche.

This is a terrible photograph of a moss or seaweed covered rock.  These dot the shoreline in a particular place.  I've discovered (thanks to Sky) a place to go photograph that looks like Ireland.  Not that I've been to Ireland, but what my mind envisions Ireland to look like.  One day, one day.

Is this not the coolest thing?  Old bricks?  This one was found along a rock barrier sea wall.  I'm not sure what they are, but I've found some in the yard as well and will investigate with the locals at some point.

Intriguing.

Sometimes one has to get off the computer, walk the earth and soak up new things.  This is my time.  When the temperature outside reaches 500 degrees Fahrenheit, I'll be back inside doing computery things.  In the meantime, you'll find me out walking the labyrinth. 

Fog on the Beach

We sat on the beach,

Baylee on a leash,

to watch the fog roll in.

Roiling from the north

covering houses like smoke,

curling and smothering sound.

Muted waves crashed.

tide coming in, inching closer

to our toes wave by wave

Gulls stand with sandpipers,

standing on one leg

all in a line, watching

Sun glowed through,

a soft light bathed,

eerily creating fog shadows

Storm-grey blue and green,

bright white foam,

Tan sand and green grass

I touch my hair; it is dripping.

moist dots on Baylee's fur

like sequins.

 Wet thick fog envelopes.

wispy tendrils float

inland over the dunes.

Collecting shells, the sand flies

when we shake the towel

and head for home.

Awakening

Northern Dewberry

Beach bums since Monday, our days have been filled with the busyness of settling in.  Not much time for relaxing or exploring, but those days are approaching.  During downtime I explore the yard.  These little white flowers are everywhere.  Wild and low, rambling along fence lines, peaking their heads up through low decking, they are bright white in the sunshine.  Sunshine.  I'd forgotten how bright the beach is, and how much I love the color of the light.  It's dazzling, and the roads have diamonds glittering within.  But I digress.  

This beauty buzzed by for a visit as I explored.  Gorgeous creature, but not sure exactly what it is.  A wasp seemingly, but the like of which I've not noticed before.  Fortunately, it was more interested in the flowers than in me.  

There are live oaks everywhere, which are one of my top ten favorite trees.  Scattered beneath them are all manner of rambling bushes and plants.  I brought my pruning tools but I've learned not to whack indiscriminately.  Each plant begs identification.  I've no clue what this is, above, but love the little blue berries.  

A yaupon holly is growing tall amid the branches of a live oak.  Until I clear out the underbrush I'm not sure what to do, if anything.  Why do anything at all, Bob asks?  A good question.

A garland of cat-brier vines drape over and within the live oaks' canopies.  They produce these gorgeous, fat, juicy blue-black berries that feed over 13 different species of birds.  Why not leave them there, Bob asks?  Another good question.  

The minutiae of curlicues and spines and bokeh provided by the various plants, blue of the sky beyond.  I just love this image.  

There is a huge palm tree planted out front that does indeed need some trimming before it takes out an eye.  That'll also wait...

Because today, the northern dewberries bloom, casting their shadows as they face the sunshine.  The sky is blue and filled with lines of brown pelicans gliding above the waves, cormorants scurrying northward, and all manner of gulls.  The grackles are making their beachy sounds.  This morning I rescued a box turtle who thought the roadway was a nice place to sleep.  Baylee and I have found a lovely lane lined with sodium lights and live oaks upon which to take our morning walks.  She loves the beach, and bounds and romps with the waves.  This morning I returned to the beach after our walk to watch the sunrise.  There was a storm way out over the ocean which made the sun late in its arrival, but once it came the water, sand and sky was filled with golds, purples, teal and peach.  Again, a glimmer of something began deep, deep within.  My camera rested within its case this morning.  The sunrise was just for me, and me alone.  For I was very alone on the beach.  No other person could be seen.  The Atlantic washing over my bare toes, treasured shells nestled in my drained coffee cup, I stood tall looking out over the ocean and communed with Spirit.  Let the healing begin.

Adventure

This is a bridge to somewhere.  

This is a path to adventure, enlightenment, peace, Spirit

This is Self.

This is a trail that will not be denied.

This is hope and opportunity.

We have been given a gift.  A rare, beautiful, timely gift.  The gift of healing ocean breezes, sunshine, the call of gulls, endless horizons and unexplored grasslands and wetlands.  Turtles and pelicans.  Driftwood and seashells.  Peace.  Calm.  Breath of Life.  

Our house has been sold.  Most of our possessions have been given away, donated, pitched.  The good stuff will go in storage.  For 6-9 months we will be overseeing repairs at my stepfather's house on a beach in North Carolina.  Kure Beach.  We plan to return, unless the lure of the ocean won't allow us to.  It depends.  I feel so free.  So untethered.  My GeoGypsy pal Gaelyn has come to mind so much through this process.  She would be the first to say WAY TA GO! 

After this year of trauma, doctors, hospitals, surgeries, doctors, procedures, physical therapy, counseling, exhaustion, fear, anxiety, and driving, driving, driving we are both so excited about leaving this place of pain.  This house is a good house, a comfortable house, but it has some hard memories we choose to release.  The future is approaching way too fast as we age, and it's time to embrace a new place, new adventures, new smells and sights.  Fresh seafood!  New habitats to explore and write about, photograph and blog.  

I will be sharing my adventures on this blog and another one soon to be announced.  Imagine!  Ferries and wetlands!  The wild winds off the ocean!  What will come on shore tomorrow and the next day?  I will get to see sunrises and sunsets again in all their glory!  Pelicans flying by every day!  It's about damn time I get to use exclamation points again.  I've earned the right and I'll use them often and freely and without shame!  

Thank you all for being my blogging friends all these years.  The Giraffe Head Tree remains on her perch overlooking the Tennessee River, but...you know what?  I just realized...she faces East, and that's where I'm going. 

Stay tuned...

Vacation

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.....

Sense of Place

Shannon and Jessica walking toward our rental from the community dock that fronted the salt marsh. Ours was the first yellow building from the right. There were very few people in the area all week. Rentals stood empty and dark, roadways were lightly traveled, beaches were sparsely populated. PERFECT, in my book but clearly the current economic woes were showing.

From the community dock one could launch a kayak and travel all the way to the ocean. Kayla and Lance had a wonderful time. However, there was no formal "launch" and one had to physically lower one's self down to the kayak. Not possible for most of us and was even difficult for them. Still, what a wonderful way to spend an afternoon.

Me, Jessica and Shannon would wait and watch, and bring them water when they were finished playing in the marsh.

Shannon enjoying the view, looking at wildlife and pondering.

Shannon spied these mussels attached to various plants in the shallow marsh. I'm assuming they're a mussel of some sort, anyway.

From our northern-most deck, where we spent the afternoons cooling down and sipping wine, sharing stories about our day. This deck overlooked a wide expanse of shrubs and weathered, wind blown live oaks. These snags attracted all manner of birds and dragonflies. The house beyond the oaks fronts the beach and was a landmark when we walked the shores. The architecture is typical for the area. The houses were amazing - most were brand new, huge and empty....and for sale or rent.

Sunset over the salt marsh.

Field of live oaks as seen from our second floor deck.

The southernmost deck is where we enjoyed morning coffee and solitude, reading and listening to the marsh birds, the call of grackles and hum of insects. This afternoon a storm was brewing. We had storms all around us the entire time but never had any rain. We were in a bowl of sunshine. There's that phrase again...but that's what we were in!

It was hot and humid, wreaking havoc with our cameras. Condensation was common and this was the usual first shot! Hope this gives you more of a sense of place. We really enjoyed the peace and beauty of this spot. However, being adventuresome we are already planning our NEXT family reunion elsewhere so we can explore another section of this awesome country of ours. Any suggestions? Next, I'll show you some birds & critters that I spied and captured - digitally, of course!