Beach Thoughts

Needed to read the working manuscript of my novel from cover to cover.  Didn’t wanna.  Spent the whole day at the beach.  Got it done.  Then spent two hours walking along shore.  Mind wandered.


I know why those silly little birds, the plovers, are endangered.  It’s got nothing to do with us messing up the dunes.  It’s because their predator-avoidance strategy consists of:  See perceived predator.  Fly.  Land four feet away, still in direct path of predator.  Repeat as required.  Over.  And over.  And over.  And over.  And over.  And over.  And over….

Note to self:  Stop being a show-off.  Put on surfing shoes before clambering over slippery, slimey, barnacle-covered rocks.  Unless you like the sight of your feet covered in your own blood.  (Which, okay, I actually kind of do.  It makes me feel tough.)

Baby porcupines are really, really cute.  So are baby deer.

Why is it that every time I come to the beach this year, the air is exactly the same temperature as my skin?  In a pleasant way, mind you.  But it’s still weird.  Am I becoming cold-blooded?

Stepped on a jelly-fish.  Bare feet.  First time.  *shudder*

Wasted too much time investigating lumps of kelp out of curiosity over whereabouts of rest of duck whose perfectly-intact head I found on the sand.

I wonder if clams get frightened when they hear the shovels striking through the sand above them?

How come I keep forgetting to wear sunscreen this year (despite third-degree burns on my shoulders just two years ago…duh), but am still not burning even though I spend most of every day outside?  Have we somehow cured the ozone depletion above Nova Scotia?  Or have I somehow managed to perfect being as white as a ghost and am forever doomed to glow in the dark?

People seem very shocked when they see me emerge from the water after a swim – and always inquire as to how the water is, with a little snicker that indicates that they think the water is freezing and that I am insane.  Has it never occurred to them to stick a toe in to find out for themselves?  Because if they did, they would see how nice the water actually is.  That’s how I found out, for heaven’s sake. 

Why does dude from New Jersey keep stealing my spot?  Why???

People who leave their cigarette butts in the sand are ass-faces.

Dune wildflowers are really, really pretty.

Published in: on July 24, 2008 at 11:17 pm  Comments (2)  

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2 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. “Unless you like the sight of your feet covered in your own blood. (Which, okay, I actually kind of do. It makes me feel tough.)”

    I can relate to this. I walked up the mountain in my bare feet, and I walked down the mountain in my bare feet. Everyone else wore sneakers or even hiking boots, but not I. The feeling of mud and grass, the cold stream water, and even the long stretches of cold, unforgiving, foot-bruising rocks were Heaven for me.

    I didn’t walk right when I got home. It hurt, and every step on my bruised soles reminded me of my own piece of paradise in Cape Breton.


    (And yes, I also felt rather tough!)

  2. Your blog is interesting!

    Keep up the good work!

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