Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Playing at the Beach

The island is about 10 miles around- Wonder Daddy and I biked the bottom half, and across the middle, like a big orange slice.  After that, there's not much to do there!  Perfect.

Ernie spent the afternoon curled up in the loft with a pile of books.  My dad kept her company up at the cabin while the rest of us explored the beach.  It's, for the most part, full of rocks and stones and pebbles and any other name for "chunk of rock" you can think of.  BUT, at the farthest edge, where the beach meets the brush, there's a solid collection of driftwood logs sitting on fine sand.  Mom went around the beach in front of the cabin before our visit, shoving logs out of the way to make bigger sandy spots to enjoy.  Cocoa and Wonder Daddy spent a good chunk of the afternoon tossing rocks back into the ocean, or trying to hit an old pilon down the beach.  I really have no idea how to spell that word, now that I think of it.  We've always called them "pile-on."  At any rate, it's a weathered mast of wood.

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We all found our little zen place.  Wonder Daddy made a little zen garden.

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