There have been high tides but no big storms, so things are falling in, but slowly. This is good news for my friends Roberta and Dave, whose place is likely to be next. Their place is a block away from mine. The beach has risen in places, burying the car I shot last week, and sunk in others, revealing a tape deck. Long live rock!
There are many colorful local characters at Washaway. Though he has somewhat of an iffy reputation, I always get a kick out of talking to Les. He is a self-styled expert on Washaway Beach and a keen observer. He was telling me that the areas of black sand on the beach are magnetic. He suspects a meteor.
One thing that was unusual this week was to see a whole salmon on the beach, as-yet uneaten by gulls. It was this pretty hot pink color even though its spawning plans were cut short.
Another place that will fall in soon is this house covered with Tyvek. My neighbor was telling me the guy who lived there shot himself. I can’t imagine living in such a raw space, so close to the water and wind. It must have been terrifying. The only indication of any warmth or comfort there is a pair of muddy hiking boots. The eerieness and sadness of those boots left me feeling mighty spooked.