The day...the week called for a walk on the beach. I felt like a stretch so bypassed my regular haunts of King Salmon and headed out Hookton Road to the South Spit. There were few people around: a lone surf fisherman, some guys cutting firewood. The sun was high. The wind was whipping the waves around. It felt glorious to run (not miles but mere fractions of a mile) just to do it. Some stretching. A little yoga just because I could. Made going back to the hectic office more palatable. Two more weeks before the fledglings leave the nest and anxiety reigns supreme.Our north coast beaches are beautiful but offer a dearth of treasures to soothe a beachcomber like me. No scattered shells. Agates if you know what you're looking for. King Salmon offers up the microscopic variety that I collect in jars -- eensy tiny snails....sand dollars the size of a collar button. Hookton Road on the south jetty goes to the other extreme.....driftwood of grand proportions in grander quantities.
A wonderful serpent-shaped piece presented itself (it's in here somewhere) and I began to haul it up the sand. Then remembered I have a small car and groceries to fit in....but brought it home anyway. It is in my garden along with the bowling balls and concrete turtles.
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