A tramp down to the beach

I like to 'bush-wack', so I take the path-less route down to the beach. Gives me the best of two worlds: the woods and the ocean. But I think I like the woods best.

My beach is rocky as far out as you care to walk. Funny, because my house is just across the hi-way and sits on a lot that is 40 feet deep of sand. Nice beach sand. Maybe it used to be the beach?

There aren't usually starfish on this beach, but every once in a while you'll find one. One time the beach was just covered in them. Mostly just purple and pink ones like the one in the picture.



If you walk along far enough you just might find a very small sandy patch like this one. I sat here thinking about everything and nothing, watching the pattern of sand flowing from my hand to my bare foot until rain began to fall. Fortunately some friends of my parents were staying in their RV at the campground that day, so I hung out with them until the rain stopped. They told me all about their recent trip to Israel, I told them a little about Morocco, and some how they ended up giving me all sorts of advice on dating and boys. *grin* One of their biggest complaints seemed to be that most of the guys who woo their future wives on the dance floor quit dancing once they get married. So guys? Go ahead and dance in the kitchen when she wasn't quite expecting it. I saw an older couple recently who were dancing on the beach.

If any of you tall people ever wondered what the view was like from down here, well, here it is. Dad used to laugh at me because I would insist on blowing out the candles mounted on the wall myself, but I had to climb into the window in order to do it. Stools wouldn't be quite high enough. *grin* Amazingly, though, my feet do reach all the way to the ground!