Going to the Beach

 On our final day in North Carolina we took a road trip to see the Atlantic and maybe stick a toe in. I was looking forward to the ride and seeing the countryside as we drove, but there was almost no view of the area surrounding the highway.  Just trees, and very tall trees at that, flanked the road.  North Carolina seems to be loaded with trees in all different shades of green.  My brother’s place has a mini forest right behind it.

We made a brief stop in Wilmington and got a view of the Cape Fear River and a WWII battleship. If we’d had more time, it would have been nice to tour some of the old buildings. There’s always next time.

From there we headed to the most  accessible beach town, Wrightsville Beach.   We passed over the Intracoastal Waterway on the way there.  Ever since I first heard about it, I was curious what it was like.  In case you’re unfamiliar, it’s an inland waterway made up of natural rivers and such combined with some man-made canals that stretches from Boston to somewhere in Texas.  To be honest, it just looked like a wide river with a lot of boats.

Wrightsville Beach is is on a strip of land surrounded by inlets of water. We walked through the small town on the way to the beach.  It had a real tourist vibe and I guessed most of the people on the street were from somewhere else, though probably not from as far away as us.

As soon as we got on the sand, I started to see how different it was than the beach in Malibu that we usually go to.  It was warmer, moister and the sky looked totally different.  It was mottled with clouds.  The water was a different color, too.  I saw this amazing thing online recently where the Pacific and Atlantic meet below South America.  The amazing thing is that they don’t mix water, but there is actually a very visible line where one ends and the other begins because the water of each is a different color than the other.

I found a bench to sit on and my son went off walking.  My natural thing is to watch people. It was definitely a different crowd than in Malibu.  The Malibu crowd always feels like they’re “look-at-me” people.  Wrightville Beach had more families and a lot more people of color.  It was late in the day and people were beginning to pack up and leave and since I was sitting right by the entrance to the beach, they all went past me.  All of a sudden I saw this woman with a soft pear shaped body, a mane of wild curls and vibrant smile.  As I watched her, I realized that was how I wanted one of the characters in the manuscript I’m working on to look.  

I rummaged through my purse for a little notebook I had.  It has some drawings and notes in it and spans a long period of time.  I pulled out a pen and started to take notes on that woman and other people I’d seen.

I was deep in what I was doing and a man came up to me and asked me what I was writing.  When I told him, his face brightened and he said that he was a writer, too.  He wrote music, poetry and affirmations.  He was very friendly and offered me a bounty of blessings before introducing himself as Jermere.

The beach was almost empty when my son finally returned.  We walked back through the street full of shop, loading up on T-shirts to bring back.  We grabbed some dinner at burger stand that turned out to have delicious food.  They had funnel cake fries.  No potatoes, just funnel cakes shaped like french fries. Too good!  Thank heavens they didn’t post the calories.

It was getting dark when we started the drive back.  The sky had a soft pastel look as we passed by elegant looking houses.  Once we were back on the highway it was super dark with all those trees on either side of the road.  No street lights either.

And then it was time to grab a few hours of sleep before we went to the airport for our 6:00 a.m. flight home.