Late summer garden sees us off to the beach.
Each year, for so many I don’t want to count, we head for the Outer Banks of North Carolina – Jennette’s Pier in south Nag’s Head, to be exact. It was the bull’s eye of Hurricane Irene and we watched the weather anchors blowing along the beach right in front of our own special dune not too long ago.
As we take our perennial trek eastward across the great state of Virginia, from the foothills through the Piedmont to the coast, I always feel a sense of renewal and hope. Maybe it’s the pull of those negative ions from the crashing shore after all these months in the lee of the hills. The difference in sound is the main thing I notice – the constant sussing of wind and sand in contrast to the quilted quiet of the hollow. How to convey the sound, or its absence?
We’ll greet the autumn equinox on the edge of the Atlantic on September 23rd and start the long low tilt into winter. Maybe when we get back home, I can finally get the garden in order! It’s been a battle this year, with many distractions, but despite all the neglect, we’ll have ripe tomatoes, jalapenos, zinnias and globe amaranth to take to the beach. Unfortunately, I forgot to plant nasturtiums, so we’ll have to find something else to feed the turtles at the Charles Kuralt bird sanctuary on Pea Island.
Hollow girl at the edge