Quiet afternoon

The tide was high. It had been raining, just a sprinkle, but enough to clear the beach. With no wind to stir it up, the water was glassy, grey-blue like the sky. In the distance, an eagle called.

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.