Nature Connection: Beach Before The Storm

The wind was at my back, the ocean was feeling rambunctious and hitting the shore with enthusiasm, and the gulls were sitting quietly on the sand. A storm was in the air and on the minds of many people, though at the time of my writing this, it was still unsure where it would land or how long it would last.

On my way to the beach, I followed several vehicles with boats on trailers. Their owners were taking no chances. The osprey nests that had been busy all summer were now empty and quite windblown. A line of utility trucks passed me, heading to their staging area in Hyannis while along the road other trucks and workers were trimming tree branches.

As I headed down the shore, I remembered the advice of an old and dear friend to walk facing the wind so that the wind was at your back for the return trip. I was blatantly ignoring this advice as the only way to go on this day was the complete opposite. The wind was mostly coming off the water so maybe I’d be OK. I hoped that would be true, anyway.

I didn’t have long to consider this because the scene all around me was breathtakingly beautiful. The sky was full of puffy white clouds, the sun on the dune grasses was brilliant, and the rocks on the sand were piled high by the waves of the night before and shiny from the receding tide. The seaside goldenrod was in bloom, giving pops of bright yellow all along the dune edges. One of the last blooming flowers by the beach, it always makes me smile, and on this day, it was waving like crazy. It wasn’t going to let a little wind get in its way.

A man with a sweet labrador puppy passed me in the opposite direction after we stopped for a brief puppy appreciation moment, and a lone herring gull watched us suspiciously. A few ring-billed gulls stood by the water’s edge while an immature greater black-backed gull flew in to see what it could see and hopefully eat, I imagined.

The usual broken shells and crab shells littered the wrack line, along with clumps of seaweed and old feathers. A few semi-palmated sandpipers joined me for a bit, running along as sandpipers do. I stopped to watch a line of eider ducks fly by, perhaps three dozen or so. Soon there will be many more as well as the scoters and loons that overwinter in the bay. In the opposite direction a line of cormorants flew by.

Often, I see flocks of sandpipers and semi-palmated plovers here, but I was thinking I had missed them just as a few plovers ran across the sand just in front of me. Within seconds, hundreds lifted off the ground and flew together out over the waves before turning back and landing on the sand a hundred yards or so away. If I hadn’t seen them fly, I would have missed them. They are so well camouflaged in the sand and rocks that I had been walking right by them oblivious as I watched the waves instead of the movement on the sand.

A dozen or so sanderlings joined me for a while, and the waves crashed the sand vehemently but not unpleasantly as I continued on my way.

I walked about two miles. It was so pleasant and lovely, and all my little bird friends kept me in good company. And then, I turned. Ha! Yes, the wind was an offshore wind, but it was also barreling down the beach like an out-of-control truck driver. As long as I walked on the damp sand, I didn’t get sand blasted, but it was pretty slow going. I didn’t exactly get pushed backward, but I didn’t make great strides forward, either. It was a long two miles back to the parking lot, but I made it. I may have felt that a flag of victory could have been flown in honor of my safe return but had to settle for getting in the car with some of the best windblown hair I’ve ever sported. 

It’s an odd thing to write about a storm that is predicted knowing that by the time this is being read the storm will either have passed out to sea or come ashore causing a lot of hubbub. I’m hoping for the former as I type, knowing that the damage a direct hit by a nor’easter coinciding with a full moon can cause to our beaches and trees can be substantial. I guess I’ll just have to wait to find out.

In the meantime, I hope all our migrating birds and butterflies and dragonflies stay safe. I hope that flooding is minimal or nonexistent and that all our little burrowing friends are secure as well. A storm is a natural event, but it doesn’t mean it is always a positive one. I hope this finds everyone safe as well.