It’s that time of year – the wind has dropped, the sun is shining, and a low tide means a long walk on Crescent Beach. Every day the beach is different. It depends what wind, what tide last scoured it. One day it will settle, and that will be the summer beach – some years more sand, some more rock, depends what the last storm did this time.
The black sand is heavy today (iron laden – a popular summer toy is the magnet stick, plunged deep and coming up all bristly with filings) then patterning its wave forms with the golden silica twinkling.
A lot of sand has disappeared – to a sand bank in the sea? As well as the rocks, some ancient objects have emerged from their long ago burial. Maybe the crane and pilings that are temporary to lay the new cable to the mainland (cheap electric? internet that works?) will add stuff for future years’ uncovering. Maybe it will all be tidied, gone as though it has never been, before the summer. We are told they are on track.
Turn back, the tide is really low and the beach is wide. The sanderlings are out. Their legs twinkle faster than the sunlight, busy busy birds making the most of their beach while the sun shines. Do they care where the black sand has gone? or where the rocks will be?
My World, Your World, One World 