Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Why Go to the Beach in the Morning?

Sven and I usually walk in the late afternoon. Yesterday I got my husband to LeCount Hollow in the morning, a rare occurrence. (In the evening we attended the Selectmen's meeting and, for a summary, see the end of yesterday's post.) There’s something special about morning on a Wellfleet beach, in summer, a positive energy that lingers way after dawn. Beachgoers move about with more spring to their step, brimming with the expectation of a good time. There were not a whole lot of tourists out, but we did see entire families involved in digging sand castles, together. The second thing I noticed was how different morning light can be with the occasional sunbeam dancing off the water. It was mostly cloudy when we arrived, with mist obscuring the view towards Marconi. A silhouette appeared in the distance as a dark spot, only to reveal itself to be a very trim young man who jogged confidently past. Low tide had peaked at ten, exposing a wide expanse of beach. Two little boys were busy carving canals in the sand, using the space almost like an easel. The surf was still strong, due to Bill’s passage, and a ledge seemed to have been created, where the waves crashed, a reminder of the powerful rogue wave that carried off a child in Maine this week. We noticed the piping plover nests had disappeared, no doubt swept away by Bill, too. Where plovers usually screeched at each other, the beach had fallen eerily silent. Below the Marconi site observation platform, we turned around. Two very brave sandpipers led the way back. Their feet moved like rapid pistons propelling their small bodies forward. By the time we reached the parking lot, the sky had turned blue and people were streaming onto the beach, having decided it was a beach day after all. Know what? I think they missed the best part!