This morning we slugged down our
orange juice, piled in the car, and headed for the beach. I’ve been trying to
take some form of a walk every morning, and what better place than the beach?
At the very least I’d sand off some of those calluses on my feet. Plus, this Massachusetts
girl is still adjusting to the steady upper 80s, so the best non-airconditoned
time for me is in the morning.
the off-season here in Venice, so
there was plenty of parking and long stretches of beach with nary a soul,
although there were a few locals:
sandpipers were skittering about, the water was perfect, and the tiny seashells
invited us to pick them up. We didn’t spot any shark teeth – something Venice
Beach is famous for due to it being
a pre-historic shark dating site – but a little girl was optimistically out
there with her sifter.
were also a couple of teen-to-twenty-something (I'm at that awkward age now where I have no idea how old anyone is) volunteers posting stakes and
stretching tape measures.
Turns out their job is to check the beach every
morning for turtle nests and stake off the area; this is the time of year turtles emerge from the sea
to lay their eggs.
False nest. Maude must have just been scouting here.
It’s a major event here, with admonitions to use only red
lights outside if your house is near the water and other warnings so they don’t
get waylaid in their mission. Can’t have the turtles thinking, “Come on, Maude,
let’s see what’s shaking in downtown Venice!”
When we moved from the city to our
small town nearby, we were excited to be moving to a place only thirty years
old. Our first home was built in 1926, so the next one, constructed in 1967,
was practically brand new in our eyes.
you couldn’t be blamed for thinking we lived in the breadbasket of America,
instead of a small bedroom community with only one small farm left.
was Plow Day, when teams from all over come to dig up the community garden for
the beginning of the season.
It’s a chance for people to show off their horses’
plowing skills as they steer them from one side of the big fields to the other.
Kind of like a farming version of a gathering of geeks. Instead of boasting
about megabytes and apps, they gather in their overalls to compare technique
were admiring the way one team cut through the hard earth, and the driver
leaned down to call out, “This plow sat out in my field for ten years. Took it
in, cleaned it up, and now I leave everyone sick at competitions. Best plow I