Hugs for Brenda, Maureen, Foster and the Tirrells
WALLIS SANDS BEACH, NEW HAMPSHIRE
September 24, 2013, our last day in New Hampshire, began slowly. We packed up the car, not expecting to return to that particular motel since it was time for us to move up the Maine coast.
At 10:40 a. m. we drove down route 1A to Wallis Sands Beach in Rye, New Hampshire. It was a road familiar to me from the days of my childhood when my grandfather, Albert Briskay, drove my sister and me, or my mother, who caught the bus, took my sister and me, to this small beach in Rye.
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When we arrived there was an empty bus in the beach parking lot but only two people sitting at the far end of the beach.
Determining that the tide was coming in and the sand area would disappear quickly I wrote “Goodby Wallis Sands” in the sand. I neglected to photo it.
Then Monte wandered to the southern breakwater rock wall while I shed my red pants to my bathing suit and took off down the beach.
Although the morning was crisp and cool the sun poured its energy onto the sand and warmed my uplifted face. I walked the beach’s short length, partly on the damp sand, partly in the water. Half-way across were two smartly crafted sand castles, just above the high-tide water line. They reminded me of the temporary art my older sister and I used to create when we were on the beach over fifty years ago.
At the far end I captured these birds:
Wandering deep into the water I realized I was overloaded with my towel and a small bag, so I walked to the dry sand to set them down. That’s when I noticed the couple sitting by the cement stairway wall.
The man was using a movie camera, and I realized I was probably a star in (more…)