Yesterday, no equivocation at the junction of LeCount Hollow Road and Ocean View Drive – the Beach-Closed sign had been placed at the spot where beach guards check stickers in summer, and it was impossible not to see it or notice the concrete blocks preventing access by car. In the distance, a Keep-Out sign decorated a temporary sand berm that protected the wider parking area. Sven and I walked down and carefully stepped over the berm, determined to scope out LeCount Hollow Beach. As we drew closer, I realized the ocean had swept away most of the fence, and taken a large bite out of the sand dune. (In the second photo, below, you can see the broken pavement's edge.)
Sand and ice covered most of the parking area, which had been swept clean by the town. While there was no detritus left by the storm, the scene reminded me of the morning after a New Year’s Eve party, where it had gotten so late that no one had bothered to clean up. It felt as if everything was reshuffled. The beach seemed wider than usual and quite impressive, with angry waves still rolling in. We were not the only gawkers. A slow but steady stream of people had parked at the Beach-Closed sign, creating a row of cars in front of the cement blocks. Sven stopped to chat with one couple. The wind was still strong and sand devils twirled their way across what was left of the deserted parking lot. To the left, through barren bushes, I glimpsed the house whose floor and kitchen had been surrendered to the storm, according to local newspapers. How awesome the power of the ocean!
Yesterday, no equivocation at the junction of LeCount Hollow Road and Ocean View Drive – the Beach-Closed sign had been placed at the spot where beach guards check stickers in summer, and it was impossible not to see it or notice the concrete blocks preventing access by car. In the distance, a Keep-Out sign decorated a temporary sand berm that protected the wider parking area. Sven and I walked down and carefully stepped over the berm, determined to scope out LeCount Hollow Beach. As we drew closer, I realized the ocean had swept away most of the fence, and taken a large bite out of the sand dune. (In the second photo, below, you can see the broken pavement's edge.) 
Sand and ice covered most of the parking area, which had been swept clean by the town. While there was no detritus left by the storm, the scene reminded me of the morning after a New Year’s Eve party, where it had gotten so late that no one had bothered to clean up. It felt as if everything was reshuffled. The beach seemed wider than usual and quite impressive, with angry waves still rolling in. We were not the only gawkers. A slow but steady stream of people had parked at the Beach-Closed sign, creating a row of cars in front of the cement blocks. Sven stopped to chat with one couple. The wind was still strong and sand devils twirled their way across what was left of the deserted parking lot. To the left, through barren bushes, I glimpsed the house whose floor and kitchen had been surrendered to the storm, according to local newspapers. How awesome the power of the ocean!
