day 127: an all-around okay day
Breakfast was made for us, and with a spur-of-the-moment text, we were picked up at 9:30 to head to Carova. Destination: wild horses. When I was a little girl, I read the Misty of Chincoteague books, about the wild horses of the Outer Banks, and I always thought it would be cool to see them. Well, today was the day.
After a quick stop at the Currituck Lighthouse to stretch our legs (we only had 8 people crammed into the F-150) and get a glimpse of NC history, we were back on the road, taking it to where the road ended. With sand between the tires, we headed miles and miles down the beach. That, in and of itself, was an amazing view. And then, from my very own window, I spotted fins in the water. Dolphin fins. Oh my word. Saw them jumping between the waves. Pure, undisturbed nature. Simply amazing.
Within time, we came across at least 10 wild horses. Just meandering wherever they wanted, or sleeping just about wherever they could. Untouched and untamed. Wow….all over again.
Uncle Kenny was far better than any paid tour guide could have been, probably way more knowledgeable and far more entertaining, too. McK fell asleep off and on, but she did perk up to see a mother and her foal. The bumpy ride over the sand was definitely worth it. What a way to spend a morning.
The afternoon found us at Uncle Kenny’s pool. The girls were happily splashing away. K finally was brave enough to swim in the deep end, unaided by floaties. McK enjoyed too much time in the hot tub, or actually, pushing the buttons for the controls in the hot tub. Turned out it was an excellent day to swim in chlorine, because we all would’ve been to scared to step foot in salt water after Aaron’s text: a 5-year old girl was attacked by a shark in the OBX. Happened in Ocracoke, not far from us, and the girl was playing in knee-deep water with her parents just feet away (yes, just a little ironic that we heard about this from Aaron in Afghanistan).
Over our late-afternoon DQ treats, the girls asked plenty of questions, most of them centered around, “Why does God let bad things happen to people?” Conversations like that are quite interesting with young kids. Their fresh tastes on such complicated matters are intriguing to my small mind.
The next few hours flew by with souvenir shopping and din
ner. And then it was time for my absolute favorite activity for our location: a beach walk. Even though there’s nothing particularly easy about walking in the sand, it is so incredibly relaxing for me. Tonight’s walk was longer than the last one, as we were gone over 2 whole hours. Shell finding. Jellyfish avoiding. Exploring. Noticing. Climbing. Picture taking. Barefoot – the best. We passed three boys playing in a dug-out sand fort, and on our return trip back, the girls begged me to stop and play. I whispered to them that they couldn’t just barge in and play in something they didn’t build….but within seconds, one of the boys was at our side. “Wanna come play with us?”
That was all it took. At similar ages, those three boys and my three girls played and played and played. The instant one of the boys mentioned jellyfish, I thought the gig was up. Those girls were petrified of the squishy creatures, and if I got within 12-inches of one of them on the beach, they yelled. Yet curiosity is often the best teacher. Within minutes, all the kids were poking at the jellyfish with sticks and shells, then touching them with shaky, nervous fingers, then flinging the jellies at each other and placing them in each others’ hair. Obviously this kind wasn’t poisonous. They felt like squishy, hard-ish jello (and I only know this because I did, guiltily, join in on the fun). As no surprise, McK was the one who yielded a few jellies at a time and began chasing the boys around with them. They had met their match with that girl child.
As darkness quickly moved in upon us, the boys’ dad insisted they head home, as did I. “You’ll pay for this next time!” the one boy laughingly shouted to McK. Obviously, she had chased him the most.
What is it about a nightly walk on the beach that calms my chaotic soul? The fresh, salty air, the pounding waves, the waning sun, the brisk ocean breeze, kites being flown, men with fishing poles in hand, each visible shell quickly picked up by a child’s hand, sand between my toes…..this is my kind of paradise. If only I could have this in Indiana, I’d be a much happier girl. Perhaps we need to move. Or just not leave…..
Comments
Post a Comment