Beach Sketches III
The beach grows at low tide. There’s plenty of room for the handful of people still here at sunset to spread out. Walking back from the shore is like crossing an exotic desert after an unlikely rain. A longhaired, bearded, heavyset man is up to his waist in the ocean, casting a fishing line. Some children are splashing and playing. The aquamarine water glows, as if it’s been infused with liquid gold that the tide washes up and deposits. The sky is a continuously changing palette of watercolors, and the clouds look like an upside- down rolling snow scene that makes me imagine galloping horses or mountain climbers scaling its the peaks. There’s a tugboat pulling a barge off in the distance. It’s a world animated with light, scent, and movement, here. I breathe the salty air in deeply.
Hull is a narrow peninsula, and I’ve taken to chasing the light (as Joan Anderson describes it in her book “A Year by the Sea”). So I hop on my bike and in a couple of minutes I’m on the bayside of town, where I can watch the fiery globe drop down behind the horizon and disappear. I like to imagine that I can walk across the shining path of light that the setting sun creates on the water, or maybe ride my bike across it.
After it sets completely, I head back to the ocean and wait for the full moon to rise. But the sky is streaked with clouds, and I only get a glimpse of it. It’s as if it is hiding behind a row of venetian blinds. For a few moments, it pushes itself through a slot and shows it’s awesome luminescence, making me smile.
Then, in a wink, it is gone. I can only see the silhouette of the man fishing now. He looks small under the mass of clouds, lit up from behind by the moon.
July 22nd, 2005 12:15 pm
Michelle sent me. I haven’t been on a beach in years. I may have to plana trip.
July 22nd, 2005 12:15 pm
What a lovely sketch. You write very well, indeed!
July 22nd, 2005 12:16 pm
Oops…Michele sent me!
July 22nd, 2005 7:57 pm
Thanks for visiting! We used to visit the beach every year… we moved to a land locked state now, and that’s a trip that won’t happen for a good while. Missing it for sure! :0)
July 22nd, 2005 9:01 pm
I’m often struck by how a serene, peaceful beach can be alive with energy and activity upon closer examination. I love the image of you riding your bike, following the setting sun, and the moon peering out at you from between the clouds like some shady character in a detective novel. Awesome post!
July 22nd, 2005 10:48 pm
Wonderful word-painting. Was remembering sunsets at Dorchester Bay….
July 23rd, 2005 5:41 am
yes, it was like taking in a painting of words..and this one had sounds and physical sensations too. i could hear the ebb and flow of the water reaching and receding the shore..and the sound of sand and shells crunching under foot..the occasional gull or sandpiper calling.
wow it’s like being able to peer over picasso’s shoulder as he was laying down his perceptual masterpieces. each day now we get to see what you perceive….with only a slight time lag as you translate it into virtual script.
now, it’s 5:00 a.m. and i await the plane that will trans-port me to your side…to walk that very beach with you as you perceive it in actual present moment. that same moon you waited for woke me through our window here on the blue ridge at 3:30 a.m. Only now the sky was free of clouds…only bright luminesence and the brightest of stars…they lit my path down the dark parkway as i descended to roanoke. your moon followed along, shifted from my left to my right shoulder and back again as i traversed the winding blue ridge. it’s light let me see the shapes of deer and possum and then one fox to the left and one fox to the right. Now it’s bright in the sky as i get ready to board the plane. it will light my pilot’s way and perhaps be setting as i near your shore. then the sun’s rays will be creating a new path on the ocean side for me to step back into your actual world from this virtual one… it’s an amazing time to be alive and i feel heavenly blessed to have you as a partner as we travel it togetherxoxoxo
July 23rd, 2005 3:25 pm
nice post. what a great moon it was last night, I was noticing it when it was still low against the horizon and looked so giant and tawny. I love when it does that.
July 24th, 2005 6:37 am
Thank you for shifting me to the seashore for a micro-vacation this morning while I sit here sipping my tea.
And yes, I’m so glad you suffer a touch of blogaholism I discussed on my recent post! Keep up the fine “habit.” *wink*
July 24th, 2005 8:16 am
Great description of Hull. Well written.
July 24th, 2005 11:07 am
What a gorgeous post. Our beach here faces east, so you have to get up mighty early to see the beautifully changing palette of the sky. The flip side, of course, is that the sun sets over the river, and that’s a wondrous thing, as well.
July 25th, 2005 6:53 pm
Been enjoying your notes! Glad you got the chance to once again…walk along the beach…like the mountains…it’s a magical place!
The sounds, the smells, the feeling of the surf pulling the sand out from under your feet as it hurries back to become part of a new wave…none of it has changed… My grandkids and me…I close my eyes when I’m with them…at the beach…and I literally go back in time…I’m a kid again…with them…With the ocean, nothing has changed….it’s so good to be able to go back in time!
Our little island runs east and west, the Atlantic to our south, and Bogue Sound to our north. In the winter, the sun rises in the ocean and sets in the ocean…if you can imagine that. It’s a little disconcerting at first, for those of us who are used to seeing the sun rise in the east, out of the ocean, and set behind us, over the land!