On Tuesday, temperatures crested 40 degrees for the first time in months. Feeling like millionaires in Vegas, Dan and I headed to the beach to catch some cosmic rays and go on a short hike on Morris Mountain and the surrounding beaches. Arriving at the parking lot just after 12:30, we set out for the beach. Dan sped up ahead towards the water, eager to do his geological research, studying erosion of a nearby river system, and wandering slowly down the trail towards the beach with the urgency of grandmother on Christmas morning.
The three and a half mile trail follows a seasonal gravel road through marshlands, woods and iconic summer houses towards Seawall Beach. I moved slowly, humming various Pink Floyd songs to myself as I took in the scenery and snapped pictures.
Boarded up for the winter.
Ice, shaded from the sun by evergreens.
After an hour, I finally crested a small hill and heard the faint clapping of shin-high waves. My slow and carefree stroll evolved into a purpose-driven walk as the sand drew near.
Clam pits at high tide.
I wandered through the knee-high grass and soft sand, enjoying the relative tropic temperatures for hours. I didn't see Dan for some time, but I knew he was out there enjoying the day in his own way. Finally I spotted Dan's blond head bobbing around against the blue of the Atlantic and yelled "Ohhh Helllloooo" in my best Mrs. Doubtfire impression. We sat on a washed-up tree lying parallel to the beach and took in the rolling waves and rustle of sand and wind through the tall grass. I longed for a match to start a campfire but settled on playing music on my iPhone as Dan and I watched the sun sink towards the west.
Here are some more links,
A Hike on the Beach (Picasa).