A Change of Scenery

I contemplated a hike. Faced with the same locations I’d been returning to on and off for the last month, I knew I needed a change.

I returned to the sea instead.

After parking the automobile, I finished prepping for the weather. It was close to 40F/4C, but the wind was strong, at least 25-30mph off the ocean.

I pulled on a balaclava, a base layer and fleece, a wool sweater over that. I added a hooded jacket and took my leather mittens. I wore flannel lined pants and wool socks.

This would not be a very energetic walk. Without the weight of a pack, I would not generate much body heat through exertion, so I knew I should dress warmly.

The beach welcome center and changing rooms were closed, and I made my way down the boardwalk that breached the dunes.

Just the sight of them raised my spirits and made me smile.

I especially enjoy coast walking in the off season. In a previous professional life, I spent many a summer and fall before sunset shooting portraits on the edge of the ocean.

I would drive out in my old jeep, top down, a heavy portrait camera and tripod on the back seat.

I’d lock the RB67 to the tripod, a beast in itself, and walk the beach. I carried no lights or lighting controls. mother nature supplied the soft box during the “golden hour.”

Today would have been a perfect day for shooting, albeit a cold one. The sun struggled to overcome the overcast, never breaking through with any strength. A perfect softbox.

Horseneck Beach has a lovely paved walking path between the dunes and the ocean. I set out on foot, alone with my thoughts.

The sea was angry, green waves crashing against the shore. My walk behind the taller dunes protected me from the buffeting wind. I would have to go down to the ocean. I wanted my return trip to be close to the water’s edge.

I found a route through to the shore, passing driftwood bleached white by the sun, as if the bones of an ancient giant lay in the sea grasses.

My footsteps fell on the sand packed by the receding tide, firm underfoot. The wind was terrific. Sea foam shivered in the gales, and flecks blew away with the stronger gusts.

Making my way back to the paved walk, I raised a mitten in greeting to the few other souls that I met. There were no more than you could count on a single hand.

Dark clouds began to gather as I made my way back over the dunes. A storm front was approaching, temperatures dropping.

It felt like snow.