Hello

I seem to have writer's block.  Possibly even photography block.  What I am clearly having is hip block, as my left one is experiencing technical difficulties keeping me off the beach for a bit.  Still, there are tons of images taken since our arrival at my disposal, lots of experiences not shared and ideas not brought forth to my blog.  My poor, sad, neglected blog that so desperately needs a change.

We are fortunate to be living close to a beach.  Photographing sunrises has been a favorite activity of mine since our arrival last March.  Walking along this pier, watching the fishermen and women hauling in all manner of creatures (and letting most of them go), staring at the waves crashing beneath me, marveling at cannonball jellyfishes, sharks and stingrays cruising around, avoiding the pelicans and gulls who think they're going to get fed, then leaving through the store, buying locally made ice cream, is such a treat.

Riding the ferry brings intense joy.  No matter how many times we passenger the Cape Fear River ferry to Southport and back again the trip never grows boring.  Never.  Ever.  Such a peaceful calm.  Watching the pelicans, gulls and terns swoop and dive for lunch, and the gulls pacing the ferry hoping for a handout is so cool.  Occasionally dolphins will mirror the ferry for a bit before disappearing toward the mouth of the river into the ocean.  Once, we spied a bald eagle.  There are always sailboats, fishing boats and even ships to watch.

The salt marshes lend an exotic, mysterious, amazingly beautiful palette of seasonal colors.  Bright greens in the spring, purples and browns toward summer ending in the luscious golds of autumn.  I am in love with the salt marshes with its crabs and grackles, herons and egrets, snakes and oysters, dragonflies and damselflies.  The salt marshes are the magical fringe between brackish waters and the maritime forest housing creatures and plants unique to that environment. 

The coolest thing EVER is that we have our own turtle nest incubating at the end of our walkway to the beach!  These little guys are due to hatch sometime in October.  I hope and pray I will be here for their birth and slipping and sliding into the ocean.  How incredible!  What a miracle! 

So I'm pondering my blog again and considering even changing to Wordpress, thanks to a creative genius friend and blogger who encourages that direction.  Blogger always seems to have spacing problems, unless it's the blog-ee (me!) and not Blogger's fault.  No matter how tight I make spaces in between photos and text there are sometimes these large spaces that I can't make go away.  But, since it's just a blog let's just Let It Be.  For now.  So that's my random blog post for now!  I hope you are all doing well - I really miss you all!

Beach Colors

There's nothing more colorful than a beach town.  People have to paint more often because of the sunshine, salty air and constant winds.  Here, their chosen colors are bright and cheerful, boldly standing out in the clear sunshine, stark against bright white clouds and blue skies. 

Bright colors lure in patrons more readily than do dark, brooding colors for who wants to brood at a beach?  People themselves don straw hats bestowed with flowing scarves (protection, of course), loud t-shirts and shorts.  They fly colorful kites, lie upon neon beach towels, schlep dazzling totes overflowing with flashy beach goodies that rivals a box of 64 Crayola crayons.  Their very skin glows from the sun's tint, shiny with oils and lotions.  One finds more smiles per capita at any beach town.  One simply can't be brooding and frowning at a beach.  It's simply not possible.  (...cranky children are the exception...)

Salty air, fresh seafood, children laughing, sunshine blazing, gulls calling, waves crashing - a beach town has a way of lightening ones load, carving out grins and cleansing lungs and souls. 

After living in such a bright, happy place can I ever go back to town living?  We are pondering that very thing.  Should we stay or should we go? 

I miss some things about town living, but would feel a hole left by the colorful houses and palm trees.  Most of all, I would mourn the loss of vast stretches of sunshine and clouds.  Here, my soul has been lifted and my heart has found a new song.