Wordless Wednesday…last light

Black and White: On the Beach

Nevil Shute’s post-apocalyptic novel “On the Beach” thankfully has nothing in common with this photo except for the location.  This shell was found on Cape May, New Jersey and made the transition to monotone rather well, I think.  Once again, black and white highlights all the details of the shell, while the shadow adds interest.

I’m still have no internet most of the time.  I’ll be back in the groove next week.

The Great Escape…Coast Rica

On Sunday, our long-delayed and awaited mother-daughter trip actually began. Pipped at the post on our first attempt several years ago, we flew from this…

over this…

to this…

Twenty nine

Without you, life’s a beach,

but with you, it’s the cat’s pajamas. Happy 29th anniversary to my favorite cat.

Friday Fictioneers–Medley

“It’s that time of day, when you can say, ‘Head for the….beach, not mountains.'” (No Busch in my house, thank you!)  It’s midweek Friday, time to put on your thinking caps and trot out the old (or new) saws for everyone’s reading pleasure.  I really, really wanted to get away from feel-good stories, was looking for a good sci-fi type offering–even had the germ of an idea float by.  Float?  Beach?  🙂

Then my mind was overtaken, hijacked even,  by not one, but many flashes from the past.  I admit; I succumbed.  As Boz Scaggs once sang on his Silk Degrees album (CD these days):

What can I say
What can I do

Three a.m. It’s me again
And wouldn’t you know
Things would have to end this way

That’s what I’m talkin’ about.  You’ll see.

Medley

 We took the last train to Clarksville,( ‘cause we’d been California dreamin’), and a big yellow taxi to the beach. The fog looked like smoke on the water. The morning sun was shining like a red rubber ball.

Ignoring the beach boys, I spied a long, cool woman.  (No black dress!!)  Now I’m a believer!

My wife protested, “But we were happy together.”

I retorted, “We had a good thing, baby. I know it’s kind of a drag, but I was born to be wild.  Let’s live for today.”

She swung the green tambourine like Serena. Everything’s a purple haze.

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Can you find all the song titles?  There are fourteen plus one group name.  If you didn’t grow up in the 60’s. don’t remember the British invasion and all that not-jazz-but-rock-and-roll and didn’t see the Beatles for the first time on Ed Sullivan, you may refer to this page of 60’s song titles to see where I came from.  It’s not a definitive list (“Red Rubber Ball” is shockingly missing) but most of what I used came from it or from my memories:  http://largeflowerheads.com/id52.html.

It’s been suggested that I have a playlist, so here it is:

Last Train to Clarksville…..The Monkees
California Dreamin’…..The Mamas and Papas
Big Yellow Taxi….Joni Mitchell
Smoke on the Water….Deep Purple
Red Rubber Ball….The Cyrkle
Group–The Beach Boys
Long Cool Woman….The Holllies
Now I’m a Believer….The Monkees
Happy Together….The Turtles
Good Thing….Paul Revere and the Raiders
Kind of a Drag….The Buckinghams
Born to be Wild….Steppenwolf
Live for Today….The Grass Roots
Green Tambourine….The Lemon Pipers
Person–Serena Williams (not the 60’s, I know, but…)
Purple Haze…Jimi Hendrix

Driftwood

Dreaming of the Jersey shore…

Across the lonely beach we flit,
One little sandpiper and I;
And fast I gather, bit by bit,
The scattered driftwood, bleached and dry.
The wild waves reach their hands for it,
The wild wind raves, the tide runs high,
As up and down the beach we flit–
One little sandpiper and I

–Celia Thaxton

She finds seashells

One cannot collect all the beautiful shells on the beach.  One can collect only a few, and they are more beautiful if they are few.–Anne Morrow Lindbergh

Makin’ tracks

Landshark

Sunset, nuclear explosion or alien invasion?

Our last night in Cape May Point, our whole group headed for Sunset Beach before dinner to (what else?), watch the sunset.  🙂  To say conditions were less than ideal would be an understatement.  A large cloud bank made us wonder whether we’d even see a sunset, the temperature had dropped precipitously from prior days and, worst of all, the wind was whipping the waves into a frenzy and driving the sand into millions of tiny sandblasters.