When the beach disappears
Blow, wind, blow! Blow tents over the edge. Blow the ocean up over the beach. Blow like you haven’t for a whole month. No blaming some far off named storm. This is the start of the end of summer.
Seriously. For the first time in my life, I was able to step from the bottom rung of the cliff stairs, into the water. And the follow a fast current moving along the rock-sand border, until it cut a road wide path back out to sea. Almost a laboratory demo of the infamous rip current. The NatPark (governments adore those fake names) beaches are closed to swimmers for the third day in a row.
Maybe the “Super moon” that has been announced is to blame. Or is it something very ordinary that we’re noticing, because there’s not much else going on.
We were back to comparing floor plans this afternoon. Affirming our previous choices, while preparing for a need to “downsize the dream” should the price point cause fear and trepidation. I dream of a world where my desires are less tempered by economic conditions.
Supper would have been at our table, down the road, but the parking lot was full to overflow. Super moon full. Time to wander further afield. This time around, we stopped at Lin’s, a family takeout neat the eastern limits of the NatPark. The food was very good, in quantity, and there was a box full of toys for those with a reverse ageing disorder. Buzz Lightyear, in the pile!
I hope to get some digipics of the diminished beach. It all depends on when darkness and high tide converge.
