Beach log, day three
Water temperature low sixties
Current book: Manic Pop Thrill by Rachel Felder
Best random song heard: The Posies' "Dream All Day"
Ghosts of the past: On my walk this morning, I passed a woman who could have been my Washington grandmother's doppelganger. Half an hour later walking back, I saw a guy who could have passed for a former boyfriend, George. Coincidence?
Doing it local style: Went to old school favorite John's for lunch (with a nod to GB), waiting at a shady picnic table for 20 minutes for flounder sandwiches and chocolate milkshakes (the best kind of sweet and salty lunch) which we then took back to the house and enjoyed on the back porch overlooking the ocean.
Science lesson: The wind, which managed to come from multiple directions all afternoon, challenging the beach umbrellas, and the cloud variety: cirrus, cumulus, stratus and nimbus, all in the sky at one time. While we'd been at John's, 3 miles away, it had sprinkled on us. Driving home from John's, parts of the road were all but flooded with rain. Back at the cottage, bone dry. Microclimates abound this year.
Cruising Manteo: Taking advantage of a lovely late afternoon, we drove over to Roanoke Island, first to stroll and then to take a sunset cruise on a schooner. Waling down Queen Elizabeth Street, a familiar figure approaches, squealing, "Karennnnn!" It's the lovely Matt, host of the Ghost Light Afterparty and currently playing Sir Andrew Agucheek in "Twelfth Night." We marvel at the randomness of seeing each other as he and his group seek booze on land while mine set out for theirs at sea (okay, sound).
Onward and upward: Bidding him so long, we peruse an open air craft mart where one of us buys leather sandals hand made and even hand tanned in Haiti. On the way to board the Downeast Rover, I note a sign saying that the Acoustaholics are playing at 8 at Poor Richard's. Alas, we will be out on the high seas then.
Bird's eye view: Our little group takes seats on the bow of the schooner while the other ten passengers take bench seats in the middle. From our perch, we can see hang gliders diving off the dunes, enormous bird nests atop channel markers (and filled with gaping mouthed young). a half rainbow piercing a cloud and dolphins frolicking just in front of us.
Ahoy, mate: We chat up the first mate who, it turns out, grew up in Goochland, went to Steward School and used to live in the Fan. It is the smallest of worlds on the Outer Banks.
And the loveliest of sunsets from the water.
Driving home, one of us asks, "What day is it?"
Does it matter?