A (Snow) Day at the Beach

One of the perks of living right by the beach is that you get to know it in all types of weather. There's the stormy spring beach-- the summer sunny beach -- the autumn beach, with the goldenrod growing in the dune grass. And the snowy beach in winter, quiet and austere.

When we woke up after last night's snowfall, James and I bundled Anne up, and then bundled ourselves up (we're talking two pairs of fleece leggings here, it was cold) and headed down the dunes to see what we could see. The wind and waves had blown and melted the snow below the tideline, but above it, there was a dusting of white caught on the grasses and the bark of the scrubby beach pines. The sand was frozen where the water had touched it, and heaps of frozen sea foam was mounded up on the jetties (looking a lot like whipped cream). There were little sandpiper tracks all over the white fluff, marking where they'd been.

Before too long we had to go or else we would have frozen solid. But I was awfully glad we went. It was a treat to see our familiar beach with its white cap on for a change.