The start of a beach vacation – almost two weeks. Arrival day is spent checking in, humping numerous bags & boxes up three flights of stairs, unpacking. Making the bed, cleaning what wasn’t cleaned from the last tenants (the cleaning ladies will not get a tip this visit), walking the dog. Actually the dog got a couple of walks in all that activity. A quick walk to the beach to check on the ocean, yes it’s still there. A sea turtle nest is close by – there were none last year. Last a run to the grocery store; only to discover my favorite mom-and-pop small grocer had gone out of business. Had to brave the hordes at Food Lion. Haul more bags. Dinner. Watch the sky darken over the dunes, and the ocean turn black as night descended. Read. Sleep.
The first real day of vacation, is for me, the day I wake to the sound of the waves, the sky just starting to lighten – and days and days of no plans, no one to please other than myself, time is a concept not the driver of my activities, my only task to keep the dog fed, watered, and walked.
|Hatteras Sunrise, 09-02-2013|