Nature calls to anyone who ventures out on a cold, cold winter day to the Atlantic Ocean. The beach may be too frigid for walking, but it is the Must-Go-Down-To-The-Sea-Again syndrome at work and it draws natives from their warm houses into the parking lots. The sight of the ocean replenishes the soul. There is always a car or two. Some people bring lunch. Others, at varying times of day, gather to contemplate their lives as the wind brushes sand across the top of the crinkled dune at White Crest, snowy and deserted.
