Night Moves on the Beach

One of the things that I don't do enough is go to the beach at dusk. It's wonderful this time of year and I enjoy seeing the families on vacation trying to squeeze every drop of sunshine out of the day before they return to the rented house or hotel room... where they either have cocktails and throw something on the grill or dress for dinner at one Tybee Island's many choices. Or, they sit in the swings and wait for a moon to rise from the ocean or sit with their feet in the sea. A few make their way into the sand dunes as darkness falls to make out or make loave. It's a wonderful time of day. It's a shame that I rarely make it the six blocks it takes me to get there. Most nights, we're taking Goddess to the Back River, only one block away, to the Sad little Holy dock with views of the lush marsh and High Tides, sunsets and choirs of mussels. Marsh Rabbits and Marsh Hens make special appearances and I just never know who I'm going to sun into. Not too long ago it was Michael Stipe of R.E.M. though I never did see Milly Cyrus. Last night turtles were hatching and Sarah wanted to go. The island is having a bumper crop of large Loggerhead Turtles making there way into the sand dunes to lay eggs (well ... except for one in front of the Ocean Plaza Hotel). On the way I told the story of one morning on Hilton Head ... back when it was an island and not a traffic jam with Outlet Malls ... my Dad jerked me out of bed and drug me in my pajamas (Yes, my parents tried to raise me as a traditional southern boy wearing pajamas but I rebelled). On the other side of a sand dune, a massive Loggerhead was laying eggs ... hundreds of them ... then using her flippers to bury them ... it was beautiful ... and amazing. The moon was throwing a trail of white light on the ocean. Salt hung in the air.The breeze stood still as witness to the miracle of birth. My Dad was so excited. "Who gets to see this?" he asked again and again with his arm around my shoulder. When we arrived, there was a crowd surrounding the nest in the foot of the dunes. A bragade of Fire Ants had dug deep and eaten the eggs. There would be no tiny turtles making a mad dash to the ocean. It was disappointing and sad ... but it was a wonderful crowd ... on a glorious night ... with the moon throwing white light on the ocean ... and my Dad raised himself from the dead to say "Hi" ... Sarah and I holding hands talking to friends ... while Laurel sat in the eddy to make sure sure we have sand to bring home. Making our way back, there are hugs and laughter and stories and ... home ... here ... on a beautiful night ... standing beside a beautiful woman holding my hand ... with a moon doing a dance ... and a choir of cicadias singing Hymns of Praise.