A warm October morning brings the urge to abandon inside chores for a trip to the beach. Dishes, laundry, cleaning, sorting — they can all wait until later. We take Coquina’s leash off the kitchen post. We fill her water bottle. She knows something’s up. We say the magic word, “Beach!” She trots back and forth and herds us to the door. Into the truck we get, and it’s off to Quansoo. The pile of “free stuff” we pass on Music Street does not tempt us to tarry. Neither does the prospect of turning left and going to Alley’s Store to see what the last three days of mail have brought. There will be time for that later in the day. At the old school we turn right onto State Road, then it’s a left at Nab’s Corner. After ten minutes of dirt road, through forest, scrub, and finally, field, we’re at the beach.
As we cross Crab Creek, we look down and see some blue claw crabs moving around. The third week in October is late to see them, but there they are, just visible in three feet of water. For some reason, one has parked itself on a piling, just below the surface of the water. She stays in place while I move around above her, getting the right angle for a photo.
It’s foggy at the shore.
We walk east. I stop to pull up a rescue buoy station to take back to the truck. When I get back, a family with twins and a dog have encountered C. and Coquina. Humans chat. Dogs play. Then we each move along.
On the way back to the truck we pause on the Crab Creek Bridge.
The air is thick, there is little wind.
Reeds reflect in the water.