We walked along the high tide line, picking up bits of eelgrass for my critters. I turned a rock or two, and watched the crabs scuttle for cover. Turning back, we dawdled through the dunes. I sat on a log to look at the sand.
|Sand from Beach Grove upper beach.|
Each shore has its own distinctive mix of sand ingredients. This one, from our usual height, looks grey, but it's a mix of many colours and shapes. White quartz, in jagged, sharp-edged chunks. Mottled, chunky conglomerates, mostly black. Traslucent pale green stones, rounded lumps. Pale pink ditto. And a surprising number of deep pink, transparent beads, not quite polished. One dark, opaque red stone.
I expected to find shell fragments, but in this handful, there may be only a couple.
|Sea rocket, Cakile edentula, gamely struggling to produce its seed in deep, shifting sand.|
|Grass grown from the remains of last year's sandbag, dried up now that the seeds are set.|
|In the weeds on the path back to the street, we found this plant. Someone had given it a protective driftwood "fence".|
I don't recognize these flowers. Do you?
Update: Biobabbler recognizes them; they're four o'clocks.
A Skywatch post.