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. 

The Unfinished Garden

Like the plough mud that ribbons through salt marshes the Carolinas tend to seep into your pours, invade your nostrils and stick to your shoes.  Visiting lush gardens, walking shell-lined beaches, feasting on crab cakes, riding ferries and tasting salt air is wonderful, but  I have a deep need and desire to know this place on a deeper level.  To do so I am compelled to read  Carolina authors who have lived these rhythms and know them best.

If you are ever lucky enough to visit Wilmington, North Carolina you simply must experience Two Sisters Bookery.  Located at the Cotton Exchange, close to the Cape Fear's Riverwalk, a tinkling bell gently announces your arrival as you step into a world of magic.  Books.  Real books.  Ink and paper books.  Books that give off the aroma of knowledge and wonder.  Books that make me weep, they are so beautiful.  Carroll and I traveled in Daris the Yaris through rainy roadways to experience Two Sisters Bookery during her stay back in February.  There, we stretched our time and imagination in this place of old wood and bright colors.  Eventually, we ended up at  the register - Carroll's arms filled with gifts for her niece while my own were achingly empty.  Though on the hunt for a good book, nothing had yet seemed right ... until we arrived at the counter.  There, to the left of the register was a shelf laden with new books and books by local authors, many bestickered with "Autographed Copy" in hopes of grabbing attention.

There it was - my first book.  It was not beachy as I'd been craving but was instead gardeny.  The title and cover begged my attention.  "The Unfinished Garden," by Barbara Claypole White - an Englishwoman now living in North Carolina.  England?  North Carolina?  Gardening?  Perfect.  After skimming the back cover I snatched it off the shelf and offered the owner payment.  I'm not a polished book reviewer at all but simply must tell you about this book and how it made me feel.  Bear with me.

 The Unfinished Garden

 Barbara Claypole White

"The Unfinished Garden" is about two fractured people - Tilly and James, and takes place amid gardens in both North Carolina and England.  Supported by a fascinating cast of fringe characters we learn Tilly is broken by loss and James is broken by OCD.  While Tilly is a fascinating character in and of herself I was completely riveted - spellbound - by James.  OCD, or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, has affected the lives of several of my friends.  While I've been understanding and nod my head at all the proper times  there is no way in hell I can ever truly "get" what it's like to have OCD.  Barbara Claypole White paints a vivid picture of what James goes through on a daily basis as he struggles with his wayward brain.  Page after page revealed what my friends surely must go through daily and for the rest of their lives.   The mental image of how James' brain makes him walk through a field dotted with dandelions is one that will stay with you forever, along with his explanation to Tilly's son Isaac as she overhears.  

Mind, I also developed a huge crush on James so that may play some part in my love of this book.  How I can have a crush on a book's character attests to the skill of Ms. Claypole White's writing.  The dance Tilly and James play as their relationship grows is reminiscent of another favorite of mine long ago, "The Shell Seekers."  I couldn't put this book down, and even dreamed about it.  It's a story that changes the colors, the sounds, the smells of your world for a while.  Those of you with a deep abiding love to read must curl up with this book on a rainy afternoon, a favored quilt over your lap.  Rich storytelling, lavish scenery and a storyline that grabs from the beginning, The Unfinished Garden shares the story of two broken people who find each other and come together despite the odds.  A simple plot, an old plot, but a great plot done extremely well.

Finishing a good book makes my teeth hurt.  It's simply over.  Just like that.  It's plain painful.  For weeks James and Tilly just wouldn't leave me alone.  They were always nearby like my shadow in late afternoon.  So I did what any sane person would do - I wrote to Barbara Claypole White.  Yes, I did.  I went to her website and spilled my guts - told her how much I loved her book and  that I wasn't ready for James and Tilly to go away.  I want more.  I want to know what happens to them.  Incredibly, she wrote me back.  After several volleys of e-mails, (I am very grateful she doesn't think me a stalker,) I think she understood just how touched I was by her book.  Ms. Claypole White shared with me that James and Tilly won't leave her alone either and she hopes to write a sequel.  As an aside I discovered that like me, Barbara Claypole White works to a playlist.  Yes!  Other people DO that!  If you are so inclined please visit her website and read REAL reviews by actual writers and discover  "The Unfinished Garden" for yourself.  Check out her playlist, too.

Oh, and she shared with me the song that may be inspiration for the sequel  ... but my lips are sealed...

My stack of books.  Each captivating and worthy of their own post.  

I'm buying books at a fevered pace.  You've been warned...

Historic Fort Fisher

The scent of musket fire remains in the air, and if you listen hard you can hear cannon fire, screams of soldiers, orders being barked, horses neighing. Fort Fisher is a National Historic Civil War Landmark found on a slim finger of land below Wilmington, North Carolina.




A boardwalk takes you through the wetlands. A relatively short walk, the boardwalk takes you around the earthen bunkers, through the salt marsh and beneath towering live oaks.

It is very quiet.

Ocean-going vessels can be seen traveling to the Atlantic where once a great battle raged.

Besides our talking the only sounds were of wind and birds.

A great place for reflection.

Wind-swept live oaks.

My favorite trees.

Fort Fisher has a marvelous website. For more information go here.

Beach Birds

Mom and one chick giving the alarm call

From our sunset and wine deck I noticed a nest platform far away in the salt marsh that begged investigation. From far away I couldn't tell if the nesting bird was an osprey or a bald eagle. Even with my zoom lens the distance was too great so some sleuthing was mandatory. Finding a road through the salt marsh took investigation and a little skullduggery. As it turns out, the road through the salt marsh is unmarked and private, belonging to a neighborhood and its HOA. There's a keypad iron gate through one must drive, which curiously sits next to a trailer park and even appears to go into the trailer pack. There's a method to this madness for it took me the longest time to find said road. Finally, I deduced that was the ONLY road that could be THE road so I watched and waited for opportunity to present itself.

The only shot containing both chicks

And it did. One morning the gate stood open. I took this as an invitation to explore. The road looped through the salt marsh, past huge homes I would never want. Fields of wildflowers were scattered amid the salt marsh. Dragonflies were my escort and birds darted around me. The nest was, obviously, that of an osprey and two chicks - juveniles, by the look of them. Mom and chicks exhibited alarm calls as I came close to the nest, and mom in particular seemed ready to dive for my head at any moment. Not wanting to disturb them further I stopped moving, took lots of shots and then took my leave.


The evening deck overlooked a stand of gnarled, mostly dead live oaks, the snags of which offered perfect birding opportunities. I confess to not having captured every grackle that stopped by as they were ubiquitous in nature. There were lots of mourning doves as well, but this one caught my eye. A gold patch was clearly visible on the side of its neck. This was the only gold-patched mourning dove that I saw.

I've no clue if this is another species of dove or just an anomaly, or if there's always a gold patch like this on mourning doves and the light was hitting it just right. I'll leave that to you serious birders. (I, myself, am a birding novice and just enjoy whatever flies by!)

From my lazy vantage point, glass of wine in one hand and camera on the table in front of me I was in heaven just watching the world go by. Occasionally, as the situation demanded, I would pick up the camera and shoot something of interest before setting the Canon back on the table and having another sip. Life Was Good At The Beach. This bird had a beautiful song. At first sight and before its song began, and from a distance I thought this was a red winged blackbird. Then it began singing and I snapped a couple of shots before it flew away. I don't know what this is and apologize for the sloppy shots.

Any ideas what this beauty could be?

Touring Fort Fisher, south of Wilmington, we found Ibis in a tree. I'd forgotten all about Ibis and had to look them up upon returning home. It's been a long time since I'd been to the ocean, or where Ibis can be found. They are so pretty. The shot has been photoshopped so that you can see them - they were practically in silhouette due to the angle of the sun. Kayla took this shot.

Back in the salt marsh - same tour - this great egret was glowing in the morning sun.

This fella also wasn't thrilled when I got out of the car and slowly crept closer. Eventually, he took his leave, flying into the salt marsh.

Well, I HAD to get some shots of the red winged blackbird. It's mandatory. Love these birds.

Along with him singing loudly. It bears repeating - Life Was Good At The Beach.

After looping through a second time I came to a quick halt upon seeing this fella in a roadside tree. Branches are in the way, naturally, but this little green heron was my favorite of the day! This was the first shot which turned out to be the best shot. Taken from my car window, if I'd stopped and gotten out this guy would'a been history! LOVE the colors of this heron. I've seen them often but never gotten this close.

Kure Beach Pier, two brown pelicans stood about waiting for treats from the fishermen. Cannonball jellyfish were bobbing in the waves beneath them. They were docile and sweet and complete beggars! I love their Sting-Sticky-Up hair, and their colors were glorious.

So sweet, their expressions and personality.

Interestingly, we all noticed this trip the lack of shore birds along the ocean's edge. The occasional sandpiper would make an appearance, even a gull or two, but frankly...the majority of birds seen were grackles and red winged blackbirds. It wasn't until the end of our week that we began seeing pelicans flying along the shoreline, but sightings were few and their numbers were few as well.

Has this been noticed anywhere else, or is that common to North Topsail Beach? Few shorebirds? We used to vacation just south of Wilmington in the Brunswick Islands and shells were abundant as were all manner of shorebirds but here, north of Wilmington, wildlife and shells were scarce. The area was almost sterile - that's the word I came up with while pondering it one day. I'm not certain why or, again, if this is just common for this beach. It was disappointing to me as a nature geek. Still, I adored vacationing here and highly recommend it! We may have just hit it wrong migrationally speaking, or something.

North Carolina is an amazing state from the gorgeous Smokey Mountains to it's amazing beaches. As much as I love traveling abroad our own country offers such diversity for travelers.