The week following New Year’s had been cold. The weather was snowy, and then turned warm, creating crust and ice. On the first nice day, Spot and I headed down to the beach.
The road to the beach was snow filled. Walking carefully, as it was glazed with ice, we could hear the water booming. Crossing the short dunes, the wind was cold off the water. On the edge of the dunes we paused to view the beach. It was an extreme low tide!
PEMAQUID BEACH, MAINE
at extreme low tide
We started down the beach to the right, as is our wont.
Snow edged the dunes.
In places where the water had seeped into the sand and frozen,
the sand had expanded through the snow,
making odd swellings.
Spot explored the edge of the dunes.
The tide had swept the beach clean of anything
that the previous tide had brought in.
Only a pattern of small stones lay near the end of the beach.
Out beyond the point were exposed rocks that we had never seen before.
The tide had pulled out strongly,
leaving deeply sculpted tide pools
around the rocks at the end of the beach.
Carefully, due to snow and ice,
we went up and over the rocks
to the cove on the other side.
Water was just lapping the base of the pole furthest out from shore.
Spot started up the beach.
The cove at low tide was really interesting.
Though no shells were seen,
there were sand patterns from the tide draining out.
Spot continued his exploring along the snow line.
He is hard to see!
Near the end of the beach were rounded rocks,
covered with seaweed, that we had never seen before.
The tide had never been low enough.
Climbing up the end of the point
one could see the waves hitting barely covered reefs of rock.
From here one could see the pattern of light and dark sand
that covered the cove,
and beyond the cove across Pemaquid Beach.
Clambering down from the rocks,
Spot sighted a seagull on the sand.
The gulls intrigue him. First they are on the ground,
then in the water,
and then they take off.
When we had first crossed the cove, the tide was still ebbing.
But, going back, I suddenly realized there was no sound of waves on the sand.
And looking, there was very little movement were water reached the shore.
And then, there was a first gentle lap.
The tide had turned.
Walking along,
I suddenly realized that the last post was totally exposed…
we could go around the rocks!
This confused Spot,
as we have always gone over the rocks.
Spot always worries about the lapping water.
But, he likes to play a game of standing with his back to it,
and then moving out of the way.
He started down the beach.
When moving, he is the fastest dog I have ever seen run.
But, he stops to say- “Coming?”…
before continuing down the beach.
Just in the time it has taken to walk part way along the beach,
the waves have gained strength and momentum,
and are booming in to shore.
Out beyond the waves, the buffleheads ride the swells.
At the far end of the beach is foam
left from the tide.
The area near the stream that drains the salt marsh
had banks of washed up seaweed,
which Spot enjoyed snuffing through.
The stream itself had carved out a circular pool,
before heading across the harder sand.
At this end of the beach there were
bits of seaweed, pebbles, and small pieces of broken shell.
A mussel shell lay half buried in the sand.
From this end of the beach one could see
the water rolling in,
as well as the far point.
Heading back on the second leg of the walk
I went along the dune edge.
The channel from the salt marsh that had appeared two weeks ago,
when it had poured rain so hard, and the marsh over-flowed,
was gone.
Only a crater remained.
Further along
I found one of the small beach vignette I look for.
It is hard to believe that their arrangements are not staged.
This one had a delicate piece of white and pink seaweed,
a small smooth piece of driftwood,
set off by dried seaweed.
The wind is always in one’s face when walking down the right hand side of the beach.
My fingers were so cold,
it was hard to feel the camera button!
I was glad to reach the far end of the beach, which is sheltered from the high wind.
Spot, of course,
played his wave game!
Turning for our final part of the walk,
I headed up toward the salt marsh.
A few rose hips remained on the thorny canes
of the rugosa roses that border the edge of the marsh.
Just at the end of the walk I found
a shell with seaweed,
surrounded by gull foot prints.
As the wind rose, the sky changed.
Taking a last look, we left for home.
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