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.
Low tide and a washed-up tree.
Where the grass meets the sand and water.
Sand arranged by tides and storms.
Erosion at Popham State park.
Clam pits at high tide.
Clammers digging through the exposed sands of Popham Beach.
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).
