Saturday morning. Up early, if not bright. The weatherperson warns of two storms headed our way this weekend.
Being caught up on work-work (and even forbidden by one client to proceed on his projects for now), I know that kind of weather will leave me inert and gloomy if I don’t have a plan.
Hm. Plan … a plan. The choices are … framing and drywalling those closets I’ve been promising myself to build for three months. Or … going to the beach!
Well, I tell ya, that was a hard decision. But by 8:30 a.m. I’m off to a pleasantly grubby little oceanside town (not far from the one pictured in this post). By late morning, the dogs and I are holed up in a grubby little motel a short walk from the beach.
Let the storms begin!
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The first storm took its time, but boy, it was worthwhile. To me, anyhow.
Although the dogs enjoyed the freedom of the isolated beach, they did not appreciate sitting with me on a dune watching the breakers and facing down the wind and rain. Even a plastic sheet to sit on, a poncho to huddle under, and their warm little raincoats to wear did not make them happy.
But that’s what I was there for. And for mom, they put up with it.
During high tide (dangerous), we warmed up in the motel, ate corndogs or fish baskets from the local c-store.
At low tide, out we went. There’s one stretch of beach where winter storms and high tides tear away at old houses and barns and fences. The following low tides reveal strange and creepy wonders — which I’d share with you except my camera broke.
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This morning dawned bright and still and beautiful with great beach walking. Nice hard, wet sand from dunes to waterline. Actual sun in the sky. Hard to believe another storm was soon due. The day gleamed. But alas, the dogs took their opportunity to get revenge for yesterday’s dune-sitting.
I forgot that storms always — always! — leave behind dead fish and even the occasional long-defunct seal or sea lion. Ava and Robbie noticed. Of course they would.
Ugh. And me without my rubber gloves and doggie shampoo.
When today’s storm blew in, the dogs were too fragrant to huddle with despite my best efforts with the motel’s shower and itty-bitty bars of soap.
Left the dogs in the XTerra as I shopped for monumentally tasteless souvenirs, had an early dinner at a wharfside cafe, and headed home (after opening the car’s windows wide to let the rain in and the doggie + deadthing odor out.)
—–
Came home to find that one of my clients spent the weekend having a crisis for which I was needed. Too late now, though. Life. It’s like that.
Closets still need to be built, too. Oh well. Later. After three months of procrastinating, I’m getting pretty good at finding excuses.
what “strange and creepy wonders”? 1,000 words for each non-pic will do nicely.
That’s my idea of a good beach excursion.
Any decent driftwood, shells, or intact (dead) seahorses?
I have never been what you’d call a beach person, but have always liked beach off season and during storms. When I was young the family went to Cape Cod for 2 weeks every summer and rented a big old farm house on a cliff above the water. That’s where I was going to grow up to become a hermit. I’m afraid to even think how over populated Cape Cod probably is these days.
I’m glad you know of a quiet place to enjoy stormy beach. Hope you’re not still enjoying the souvenier aroma the dogs brought home.
Pat — Literal tons of great driftwood. Sand dollars aplenty, and many other intact shells (though nothing particularly pretty or interesting). I’ve never in all my life seen a seahorse on the beach; dunno if it’s just me or where I live. Do you get them there in the south?
Another thing: junk from Japan. It was fairly common to find plastic bottles & such from Japan long before the 2011 tsunami. But now it’s everywhere, despite cleanup efforts.
StukaPilot — LOL, I don’t have that many words in me this morning (for which everyone should be glad). But for a sample, how about … septic tanks sitting on the sand? An old Chevy uncovered by one tide and buried by another? Cannery (?) equipment submerged nearly 100 years ago, emerging again? A house half on land, half hanging over a low cliff?
“Do you get them [seahorses] there in the south?”
Found two in Florida (western side) and one in Delaware (mouth of Delaware Bay) ― all of them dried out, two in perfect shape, one with a broken tail.
I’ve always wanted to find a Japanese glass ball/float, but they’re very hard to come by on the East coast. Looked for them once around Grays Harbor coastline, but without success.
Karen — Those childhood vacations sound wonderful. But yeah … being a hermit on Cape Cod … LOL. (Though I know some people will point out that you can be a hermit anywhere; it’s all interior, yada yada.)
Enjoy your mountain hermitage. A desolate beach in winter is scary paradise.
Never was a beach person… the ocean always terrified me, actually. One more reason Wyoming is perfect for me.
I always warn my clients before leaving for the weekend or whatever. I just tell them that if they’re going to have a crisis, do it NOW. 🙂
Yours probably survived, of course, but it is nice to be needed.
ML — The ocean terrifies me, too — which is one reason it fascinates and draws me. Don’t want to live on its level, though. Not in a tsunami zone.
Re clients: I usually give a heads-up, too. But in this case the only client likely to have a crisis had put a halt on ALL his projects — told me categorically to STOP working on anything for him right now. So I figured maybe he was already having a crisis, but it wasn’t going to involve me.
Sounds like the kind of weekend you can look back on for months, just basking in the glow of it.
I’m more of a forest-and-meadow person, not much for beaches. But there’s something invigorating about a good storm 🙂
I could use a day or 10 of that. Heck, even a few years.
I’m a great fan of grubby little motels. At least they have some character.
Yay for the beach in winter. I also like Wyoming in winter, when the roads are not plugged with tourists. I’m going to get a dose of it shortly.