Studio available in choice location. Fixer-upper.  After spotting it here in  Fort Living, the builder’s grandfather wrote me to point out that  a kid named Austin built it, and it took the entirety of Father’s Day to construct. That it still stands is a testament to its craft, though it has also seen some remodeling.



For a second there, it was truly summer. I have a bright beach towel that I’ve gotten to use maybe twice and I busted it out  and went to the beach with Marcy.She is just back from the east coast and is determined to continue her boogie-boarding regimen. Since this frigid water is suitable only for dogs and crazy children, a wetsuit is a plus.

There were pelicans on the jetty, which I love for their powerful, agile flight and their resemblance to the Pterodactyl and how they always seem to be having a marvelous time.

As opposed to the seagulls, who look they’re in the military. It looks to me like the seagull gig sucks. All that training and you’re still dumber than crows. I wonder if they ever question authority? I do see some off by themselves, like the table of the uncool in junior high. The Sibley Guide To Birds had no answers for these pressing questions that I have.

Summer. The sand forms inland waterways in some places, sand bars in others. There is a  steep sand shelf forming that can be an early warning, but when the weather is gorgeous, it is pleasurable not to think about warnings.

Summer girls with sandpoint.

The next week was a different story. The wind howled, stirring up churning mists. I made the mistake of reading the South Beach Bulletin‘s predictions of La Nina Doom Winter and disaster preparedness before going to bed.

The metal roof on my trailer in rain can be pleasantly percussive or a terrifying roar. My NOAA disaster radio seems to emit only static. There is no point staying up all night running the ball with scary what-if scenarios, but that’s what I did.

The next day I had Butch Blair of Blair Tree Service take down the two trees voted Most Likely To Kill Me. I was so dazed from no sleep I didn’t take Logging Fashion Photographs, for which I now kick myself. Like the true tree guys, he looks like an elf. If he was wearing curly-toed shoes it wouldn’t seem out of place, but he instead had these sideways spikes that attached to his work boots, and he climbed up a giant tree in the swamp with his chain saw on a rope and took it down in a flash, nimble as an acrobat, while I stood there with my mouth hanging open. If you need tree work in Pacific County, this is your man.

So I bought myself some attempted peace of mind. I figure that’s all I can do, hope / pretend that my thoughts have influence, like prayer. Please, please, just a little bit longer here.


About washybeach

Washaway Beach This Week is a blog by photojournalist Erika Langley. See more work at www.erikalangley.com.
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