Sunday. March 17. Seventy-two degrees. Barely a breath of wind. Not a single cloud.
And Furrydoc and I walked barefoot on that warm, pristine sand with the dogs. We didn’t write that message in the first photo, but we sure shared the exuberance that inspired somebody to do it.
Beaches in this part of the world are commonly socked in or howling with wind (or both) at any time of year. A day like this would be a rare treat, even in July or August. In March? It’s a miracle!
My favorite moment was rounding a curve in the cliffs and seeing the distant hills packed with snow while we dug our toes into cozy sand.
Sorry, Midwesterners. I really don’t mean to gloat; I’ve been where you are. But this is sooooo gloatworthy. (And now some Floridian or Costa Rican — not naming any names here — will pipe up to gloat their beach experiences at me. 🙂 )
It won’t be me, I don’t do beaches unless forced to. The nearest coast is 100 miles SE, which is plenty close enough.
I love my little patch of Bohemia, but I am honestly jealous of you this evenining, Miss Claire. May you have many more glorious beach days with splendid dogs and wonderful friends/neighbors!
A non-heart-eating midwesterner rejoices in your enjoyment of fine and scenic conditions in your part of the world. I note that every place has its blissful aspects; likewise, every place has other aspects which are useful for strengthening and refining one’s character through necessary suffering. And ultimately, everyone has a home place, to which each of us is tied by bonds of affection that are, not, ultimately, rational. No less real for all of that. So, while there’s always been something to enjoy about every place I’ve ever been, Indiana is still my beloved home, just because it is.
I did five years in the early 1980s in central Florida, and a lovely place it was (and is). I did notice, though, that the people living there could not seem to enjoy their mild winter weather without invoking disparagement of other places. It seemed to me that perhaps they weren’t really sure or confident that they loved where they were; they had to keep talking themselves into some semblance of confidence by comparing their place with other places. Not a convincing look, really.
Now, why would I do that? Glad you are having nice weather in your neck of the woods.
Gloat? Not me. We’re having a vicious cold snap here. This morning I had to wear a coat and wool watch cap while driving to work–the temperature was down to 62 degrees. And the high today will only be 73. I won’t be going outside without a sweater.
But it’s all in what you’re used to (and how old you are). When I lived in the Midwest, I used to participate in “fun runs” at -20; I wore a tee shirt and sweat pants.
Now I’d like to get a winter home in Cuba to get away from these frigid Florida winters.
Someone once asked me why they were called “fun runs.”
I told them it was because they wouldn’t get many people signing up for an “agony run.”
I don’t do either any more. My run gear is stripped.
For those from CA a day like this is only happening once a decade, so don’t get no ideas!
It’s above freezing and sunny here, and I live enough higher than any large rivers that I don’t have to worry about flooding, so I’m doing just fine even if walking outside barefoot would be unpleasantly cold in the snow and mud.
My days of enjoying the beach are over. Having recently discovered the black sand deposits are full of gold addictions have taken over, much to the dismay of my family and dogs as gold panning is not so much fun for them.
That little taste of summer sure was nice!