A cold beach
We went to the beach yesterday for a morning walk. It was the first time we’d gone in more than two years. It’s funny how, once the newness of a place wears off, you no longer bother to make use of the things that drew you to that place. It’s easy to let life get in the way of fun.
I had forgotten how nice the beach can be in the morning when no one is there. It was cold, with a stiff wind lashing the waves into white froth. The horizon looked corrugated with all the huge waves out there.
A large dog followed us for awhile, but we never saw him. We only saw his tracks overlapping our on the return trip, so we knew he had been there. We named him “Ghost Dog.” So many people let their dogs run loose on the beach these days (even though it is illegal), I made sure to bring my blaster with me, just in case. But we never saw Ghost Dog so we never felt threatened.
We found lots of nice shells but very few fossils, even though it had been a stormy night before and the fossil-hunting should have been good.
We’ll need to make a point of going to the beach more often, especially on the cold days. An empty beach is a pleasant beach.