We are among the millions of people staying at home, waiting for the first wave of the novel corona virus pandemic to pass. It has been about two weeks since our last random contact with strangers, so we are optimistic that we will stay healthy for the time being.
Yesterday afternoon, us two humans and the canine were getting antsy.
There’s a place we can walk where there are seldom other people.
So we got up and went.
We spoke magic words to the dog: “Wanna go to the beach?”
She leapt to her feet and went to the door.
We drove through our quiet, empty town. No one was at the Church. No one was at the town hall. No one was at the general store. No one was at the gas station. One pickup truck came up behind us, briefly, but soon turned off on a side road and we were alone again. Then we too took a side road, and drove a few miles on the old dirt road to Quansoo. At the end of the road we had to park carefully…the Great Pond has been steadily rising behind the dam of the barrier beach. Water is starting to flood the surrounding flatlands.
We saw a couple and their dog off to the west. They saw us.
We put Coquina on her leash. They put their dog on its leash.
We went to the east.
Before long, they went through the dune path to their truck, and were gone.
Then this was the view to the west.
From the top of the dunes, this was the view of the rising Pond .
A cool, damp, stiff ocean-born breeze pushed and shoved at us from the east-northeast.
In winds from that direction there is little shelter here, but we were warmly dressed.
Coquina is warmly furred.
We took off her leash, and she took off.
If you want to see “happy”, bring this dog to a beach and let her loose.
She always makes sure to come check in on us from time to time.
We’d not been here in almost three weeks. In that time the beach plants have woken to spring. Spiky new green shoots of dune grass now make the sand look like a pincushion.
Buried shoots of Dusty Miller have pushed their way up to the light.
Their downy leaves are spreading out to soak up the sun.
Seaside goldenrod joins beachgrass and dusty miller, also seeking sun.
What a windy day!
The onset of rain herds us back to the truck.
We are wet, but we are satisfied.
We drive home.
Where Coquina has an encounter with a towel.