Swansboro

This morning's view of the walkway and dune-top deck did not look very different from last night's view.  It was spitting rain just a little, but by the time I walked out it had stopped.

I wish I had carried my phone with me, because midway through my Tai Chi, a narrow chink opened up in the eastern sky and the sun glinted through, an almost miraculous appearance in the middle of all this fog.  In a minute or two it was gone, buried in the fog.

They have resumed work on the elevators, although I did not see a Resolute Elevators truck anywhere.  Instead, two men were working in the pit below the elevator shaft.  Property Manager Laura told us that the project involved three separate contractors and would probably take two months to complete.  I realize that I have no idea how a new elevator is installed.  Will a construction crane show up after the preliminary work has been completed and lower an elevator cubicle from above, down through the shaft?  It will be interesting to see.

After breakfast, I drove across the bridge to the Morehead City Recreation Center for a workout with weights.  Daily rates are only $7.00, half what they are in similar facilities.  It was only a little after 10:00 when I returned, and we realized we had the whole day ahead of us.  So we decided to drive to Swansboro for the day - "The Friendly City by the Sea," as it calls itself.

The fog was still thick as we drove all the way down the Crystal Coast on Highway 58, through Atlantic Beach to Pine Knoll Shores, Salter Path, Indian Beach, Emerald Isle, across the Sound to Cedar Point, and then across the final narrow bridge over the White Oak River to Swansboro. 

We stopped briefly at the Tourist Information Center in Emerald Isle, and Martha pointed out these paper whites along the sidewalk.  Will winter ever arrive this year?  Or has it already come and gone, and Spring is just beginning?   It looked as if daffodils were starting to come up, too, or perhaps tulips.

The visibility was not very good, and Martha, who was driving, was glad to finally reach our destination.  We were glad to see that The Saltwater Grill was open for lunch, one of our favorite places.

The view was lovely out across the White Oak River, foggy one minute and then so sunny that we had to don our sunglasses out on the deck overlooking the water.

We are planning on running intervals again in the morning so we decided to make this meal a bountiful one.  Martha had the shrimp burger and I had the spinach and strawberry salad with yellow-fin tuna, both absolutely delicious, although we could not quite finish the huge portions they served.  We don't normally post pictures of our lunches out here, but these were so attractively presented I could not resist.

And then we separated, Martha visiting one or two of her favorite Swansboro shops while I climbed the hill away from the riverfront and meandered through the historic district.  There are some fine old homes in Swansboro, some of them dating to the 1700s, and I am guessing many of them have been rebuilt over the years as they have in Beaufort as a result of hurricane damage.  Many of the homes are decorated with ships wheels, anchors, and other nautical themes.

Even Ward Cemetery, at the top of the hill, has a sign proclaiming it's amiability as a proud part of the Friendly City by the Sea.

While I was touring the historic district, I kept hearing a loud BOOM from time to time, off toward the west; it sounded like thunder, or a big gun.  It turned out to be the latter, I discovered.  I stopped at the Chamber of Commerce to chat with a man and two women on duty.  "I've been walking around your beautiful little city," I said, "And I wonder what that loud booming sound is that I keep hearing."  The man said, "That's the Marine Corps Firing Range at Camp Lejeune, and that's a 155 millimeter howitzer."  That's a big gun!  I told them my brother had been stationed there almost 60 years ago.

"Where are you from?" one of the women asked, as a dutiful Chamber of Commerce volunteer should ask.  "Highlands," I said, "About 500 miles away."  But she knew exactly where it was.  "Highlands!  My sister and her family stayed there over the holidays.  They rented a log cabin."  Everybody knows where Highlands is these days.

The Olde Brick Store stands down on Front Street, and it did not seem to have sustained very much storm damage over the years.

I am guessing this building was constructed by a builder who modeled himself after the wisest of the three little pigs in the fairy tale, and thus it has survived a good deal of wolf-like huffing and puffing.

After my self-directed historic tour, I settled down at the little park next to The Saltwater Grill for awhile, the fog mostly gone by now, and ships slowly sailing up and down the river.

It had was very peaceful sitting in one of those chairs on the water (the one on the right), and I think I could have stayed there all afternoon, watching that picturesque sailing boat anchored out there in the river, bobbing and swaying in the gentle waves, while the howitzer continued to boom in the distance.

Light in the Fog

I had not planned to run yesterday.  We attended the First United Methodist Church in Morehead City and heard a good sermon, by Associate Pastor Sarah Williams, continuing the series on Jesus's "I Am" statements.  Today Sarah talked a little about "I am the light of the world," and Pastor Powell read those  beautiful verses from John:

This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: 

God is light; 

in him there is no darkness at all.

I have always loved that additional phrase, "in him there is no darkness at all."  After church we went to the Shuckin Shack restaurant in Morehead for a light lunch and returned to the condo.  Our plan was to run on Monday, but the weather forecast called for rain Monday morning, so I suddenly decided to take advantage of another warm day, with no rain, and I told Martha I thought I might go for a run.  "I know," I said.  "I'm not right in the head."

I ran down to the Picnic Area and then out onto the beach.  It was low tide, but fog was rolling in from the ocean, and although the beach was wide and flat I could not see anything beyond that.  But I knew it was about a mile  back to the condo, so I stopped at that point and made my way up to the dunes, looking for a familiar landmark.  No buildings were visible at all.  Finally I spotted a white bench and a trash can I thought I recognized, and then the familiar path to Sands Villas.  By the time I reached the dune-top deck I could finally see the condos there in the fog.

This morning, I realized we had gotten on different schedules.  Martha had decided (wisely) to stick with the plan and run this morning, but what was I to do?  I decided it would be best to run, also, although it had only been a few hours from Sunday afternoon to Monday morning.

The weather has remained unusually warm and there was still  fog out on the ocean, and a few minutes before we planned to run it suddenly started to rain, then stopped.  We decided to go quickly, again seizing the opportunity between the periodic rain showers.  I completed four miles and Martha five, and shortly after our return it began to rain again.  I was glad to be on the same schedule as she was again.

This afternoon we did some shopping and then returned and made some more improvements to the condo.  The shower head in the Master Bedroom was so old that it did not work well; I suspect it was the original one installed in the mid-80s.  So we found a good Moen shower head with a lifetime warranty, picked up some tools, and made the replacement in no time.  We like to leave this condo just a little better each year that we stay here!  It's the least we can do. 

After dinner tonight, the fog rolled in again.  We went out on the walkway and everything was starting to disappear in this spooky, thick fog that comes in from the ocean out here on the coast.  We could hear but not see the waves breaking in front of us.  And we could barely see the buildings off to the east.

Returning on the walkway, Martha - always spotting things that I miss - saw this little fellow, a tiny frog that would have fit on a dime with room to spare.  

Yes, it's warm enough for frogs, and probably snakes as well.  We will have to watch where we are stepping on our next hike at Fort Macon.  And a pestering fly has somehow come into the condo, too, which is normally unheard of in January!  It is almost as if Spring has arrived.

Now we are settling down to read books as the fog becomes thicker and thicker, the lights along the walkway shining dimly, reminding me of Sarah's sermon yesterday. 

SpaceX and the Wolf Moon

Mystery solved!  In Tuesday's post, I mentioned that we had seen an unusual-looking ship coming out of the Beaufort Inlet while we were hiking at Fort Macon.  Martha had suggested that the large net stretched overhead might have been to prevent birds from landing on deck.

She discovered from an on-line article that this was in fact a "SpaceX-affiliated ship" visited the area for the first time since November, following a rocket-part recovery mission.  SpaceX is a commercial space company that, according to the article, "popularized the concept of reusing expensive rocket parts."  The ship catches "fairings," which are the part of the rocket that guards the payload during the launch process.  "As the fairings fall back to Earth, the ship assigned to retrieve it tracks it in an attempt to catch it in a net."  Little did we know that we were sighting such a space-era ship!  There we were thinking it was some kind of fishing boat, which I guess it was, in a sense.

This morning I attended Jenn Melton's yoga class, the same one Martha had attended last Saturday.  I was not the only man present, nor was I the only tall man - Jerry (standing to the left of me) was 6'-7".  Jenn is a very relaxed instructor who tells everyone, "This is your practice!  If you just want to hang out in some other position for awhile, that's fine!"  We both had a good workout, and I was covered in sweat very shortly.  But my left shoulder, right knee, and hernia-surgery made me use caution with some of the positions Jenn suggested.

Yoga is wonderful for stretching and finding balance, something that most runners need.  And as with every yoga class I have ever attended, I ended the class feeling peaceful and relaxed.  It was a good way to start the day.

In the afternoon, we drove over to see a movie at the Beaufort Picture Show, a non-profit recently formed to show very good movies in the area.  The venue is a small one - forty chairs set up in a tiny space - but the organizers were friendly and the movies are good.  We saw Peanut Butter Falcon, which we had wanted to see for some time but had missed when it was showing in Highlands.

So it was another interesting day here in Atlantic Beach.  Tonight the clouds are rolling in and heavy rain and wind are predicted after midnight, so we moved the chairs and table in from the deck.  But last night we had a good view of the Full Wolf Moon, for just a brief minute or two, peaking out from between the clouds over the condo.

Housecleaning and Hushpuppies

It is easy to fall into a routine out here.  It has only been a week since we arrived, but we feel as if we have been here much longer!  We don't set any alarms but we both wake up early; sunrise is just a little after 7:00 and the sky grows lighter much earlier than that.  I make some coffee right away and then go out the walkway to the dune-top deck and do a little yoga and practice my Tai Chi, while Martha does her DVD-based exercise program.  Then I return and do some more stretching exercises on my yoga mat, have breakfast, and return to the deck with a cup of coffee, absorbing the sights and sounds of an oceanfront morning:  the surf breaking, little birds chirping around me on the deck, gulls laughing overhead, perhaps a shrimper passing by or a freighter parked on the horizon.

We have designated Thursday as cleaning day, so we get out the vacuum cleaner and the windex and the bathroom cleaner and go to work.  But somehow housecleaning doesn't seem to be a drudgery out here.  Those sliding-glass doors don't stay clean long, though!

We usually eat lunch and dinner here, and that's what we did yesterday.  We had planned to have fresh scallops from Blue Ocean seafood market for dinner, but just as we walked in they brought out a big tray of freshly-made crab cakes and we could not resist them.  Martha sauteed them and we accompanied them with leftover yellow rice, and a new casserole we discovered from Friendly Market, corn and tomato gratin.  We are well-known faces at both Blue Ocean and Friendly Market.

Before heading home yesterday, we thought it might be nice to have a side to accompany the shrimp burgers Martha was going to make for lunch today (Carolina shrimp and chow-chow slaw), and hushpuppies from El's Drive-in came to mind.  El's is an institution and has been written up in Our State magazine.  To dine at El's, one simply drives in the unstriped parking lot, parks randomly more or less facing the diminutive building, and immediately a cheerful young lady comes out the front door with pad of paper in hand to take your order.  There are no prices shown on the sign, but hushpuppies are $2.00 plus tax, as they probably have been for decades.

We have had such unusually warm weather that the heat in the condo has not come on at all since our arrival.  The bright sunshine coming in the master bedroom and living room windows helps, too.  This morning the temperature was 62 degrees when we started out on our long run of the week, down to Fort Macon and back with a couple of extra loops around the parking lot - six miles for Martha, seven for me - and we both realized we were dressed too warmly in shorts and T-shirts.

Today, we headed out for more seafood - those Blue Ocean scallops deferred from yesterday - and stopped when Martha spotted this ibis, standing on the shore of a small pond right next to the parking lot of a shopping center, and I took these shots as it took off in alarm and winged its way to the opposite shore.  These ibises are everywhere, and a lovely sight to behold with their snow-white wings - beauty discovered almost incidentally along the way, hiding in plain sight.

Harker's Island

After lunch yesterday, we took a drive to one of our favorite places, Harker's Island.  It is a half-hour drive through interesting countryside.  This falling-down building along the way, for example, seems to get closer and closer to the ground every year.  I could go back and look at the same picture over the past three or four years and see how much its ruin has progressed.

We always enjoy this drive.  One year, we ate lunch out here at the Fish Hook Grill, where we discovered that downeast specialty, clear Hatteras clam chowder - delicious! - also served at the Ruddy Duck restaurant in Morehead City and in frozen quarts at Blue Ocean seafood market.

At Brooks Creek, there is a sheltered little harbor where these picturesque shrimpers are always docked, their big nets drying in the stiff breeze.

One of the reasons for our drive, aside from the scenery, was a visit to the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center, which had been badly damaged by Hurricane Florence two years ago.  We had attended a wonderful event last year, a fund-raiser for the Museum called the Taste of Core Sound, but because of the damage to the museum it had been held in Morehead City at Southern Salt Restaurant, which was much more convenient for us.

We had read that the event would be held back out on Harker's Island this year,  but alas, the building was deserted, a construction trailer out in the parking lot, and no indication of when it would be open.

We drove back to Morehead City and stopped at the Museum's temporary headquarters on Arendell Street, which we had visited last year.  It is a fine old house with high ceilings and a beautiful staircase and fireplaces, and it always reminds us of Martha's "Mamah's" house in Raleigh.

There were three women standing in the lobby, and Martha surprised them by asking when we entered, "Is one of you Deb Thornbush?"  She was close - it was Deb Brushwood, and she remembered who Martha was.  She had been corresponding with her for some time trying to get my name changed on their mailings to us; instead of Richard and Martha Betz, they were addressed to Clarkson and Martha Betz.  I introduced myself as Clarkson, and we all agreed that it was a much more distinguished-sounding name than Richard.  Nobody could explain how Richard had become Clarkson, but Deb promised to take care of it.

We also discovered that the Museum would not be ready in time for the Taste of Core Sound this year on February 28, but would be held at Southern Salt again.  Tickets had just become available, and Martha snagged the very first two tickets.

In the meantime, what has happen to the two young chain-smoking men who were working on the elevators on Thursday and Friday, but seem to have disappeared for a week?  We don't mind climbing the stairs - we usually do, anyway - but some of those folks staying on the Fifth Floor might find it a bit more of an inconvenience.  "Resolute Elevators" needs to be a little more resolute.  Clarkson wants to know what is going on!

A Wee Bit Draughty

I said in my previous post that the oeanside section of the Eliot Coues Nature Center reminded us of the Scottish Moors.  "The wind was picking up - a fine day, though a wee bit draughty!"  I suppose I was thinking of this spectacular day in Scotland on our trip this summer, where the coach stopped somewhere in the midst of those moors, the wind whipping wildly.  That was a day to remember!

I was also thinking of an exchange Pastor from Scotland who traded places with ours at the Presbyterian Church in Highlands many years ago.  One day we were at an outdoor event and he was wearing a kilt, his bare legs exposed to a bitter cold mountain wind.  "Aren't you cold?" I asked him.  "Well, it is a wee bit draughty!" he replied.  

It was a wee bit draughty today, and on an open beach at low tide there is not much shelter from a 15 mile-an-hour wind.  With a race coming up in less than three weeks, we decided it would be a good idea to do some speed-work.  I suggested to Martha that we run some intervals at the Picnic Area.  Interval training usually consists of running at race pace or slightly faster over a set distance several times, with rests between the intervals; in Highlands, we usually run "400s" on Leonard Road - 400 meters, that is, or a quarter-mile.  I had found in the past that you can do the same thing at the Picnic Area, running from the "Yield" sign at one end of the parking lot to a fixed point at the other end (a trash can).  The distance is unknown, probably about an eighth of a mile, but the effect is the same.

I started out earlier, than Martha, a strong west wind at my back, and proceeded to run four intervals, all just over a minute.  Then I circled the parking lot, waiting for Martha if she was not far behind me, but decided to just go back on the beach as we had planned.  It was almost low tide, but the wind was very strong, an unrelenting force straight in my face the entire way.  Loose sand stung my legs until I got out to the flat, packed surface near the ocean.  What a run! A little way down the beach, I came upon a small electric car, a toy in which two very young boys were riding (wind at their  back), their father following in a pickup truck.  They were on top of the world, driving their own car on the beach, and they laughed and waved as I ran by and gave their smiling father a thumbs-up.  There was also a woman with three or four children, looking for shells, bundled up tightly and dancing in the edge of the frigid surf.

I finished up, four miles in all, and decided to drive to the Picnic Area to see if Martha might want a ride back; her asthma makes running in wind like this very difficult.  I circled the parking lot and did not see her, but on the way back, there she was, returning along Fort Macon Road.  She willingly accepted a ride, and told me that she had started to run back on the beach but the wind and sand drove her to return to the road.  She had found herself stumbling through a construction area before finally making it back to the road.

We were glad to have completed this hard workout in such conditions!  I thought of the last part of what Martha had posted on the wall yesterday:

Do things that challenge you.   

Be brave.

Yes, it was a wee bit draughty out on the beach today!  But as  Moliere said, "The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it." 

Fort Macon

I have been ambitiously filling the pages of my running log since arriving here.  Yesterday, I ran four miles, down to the picnic area and then out onto the beach.  It was low tide and the beach was flat, wide, and a perfect surface for running.  Of all the beaches I have visited, this is the only one that is perfect for running when the tide is low.  It is simply wonderful to run with the ocean right there at your elbow, sanderlings skittering away, sea gulls reluctantly lifting into the air to get out of the way.

I spent a good deal of time yesterday afternoon doing maintenance here - changing the HVAC filter and cleaning the windows, which take a real beating.  Now it is nice to look outside the crystal clear sliding-glass doors and see the cloudless sky.  In the evening, we read books.  I have nearly finished a Peter Robinson mystery, and Martha is at the same point in a P. D. James called Death at Pemberly, based on the characters in the Jane Austen novel Pride and Prejudice.  It has been so warm that we can have the doors open just a crack and hear the ocean roaring outside while we read.

This morning, I awoke well before sunrise and went down to the beach to watch it rise.  Emily Dickinson might have been referring to sunrise when she said, "It's all a common glory."  First, long horizontal lines in all the purplish shades of the spectrum.

And then the main event!   We never see sunrises from our home in Clear Creek valley, so it is especially appreciated here.  And this time of year we can see both sunrise and sunset on this south-facing wintertime beach.

After lunch, we decided to drive to Fort Macon, our usual stopover when we run, to do some hiking.  On the way, I noticed these two rusty bicycles under the condo.  Have they been here all winter?  Or perhaps just for a week.  The weather is rough on windows and bicycles alike.

It is always a welcome site to see the long, curved fence at Fort Macon.  For the runner, it offers restrooms, drinking fountains, and shelter from wind and storm.

We started out in the parking lot at the Yarrow Loop trail, where there was a huge pile of Christmas trees, which are collected after the holidays and used to stabilize the beach.  You can smell the fragrance of  balsam from a long way off!  I sometimes think these trees may have been cut near Highlands.

In the Beaufort Inlet, we noticed some shipping activity.  First, a tugboat was maneuvering in the channel, and then a huge freighter appeared, which the tug got behind to nudge into port.  And in the opposite direction was coming another ship with a large net stretched over it - Martha thought it might be to prevent birds from landing on deck.

We started around the loop but did not see any birds until Martha spotted this immature ibis high in a tree, not the brilliant white of the mature ibis.  Bird-watching guru Ranger Randy would be proud of her!

From the loop, we entered the Eliot Coues Nature Trail that goes along the sound to the Picnic Area a mile-and-a-half away, crosses the highway, and comes back along high dunes looking down on the ocean and the beach.  I am sure I have posted photos identical to these in this blog in past years, but it is such a beautiful place - the twisted live oaks, and the sound stretching out to the north.

The high dunes on the ocean side, most of them made from Christmas trees placed below, always remind us of the moors of Scotland.  The wind was picking up - a fine day, though a wee bit draughty!

What a great day for a hike this was!  And now we have worked up appetites.  Dinner will be shrimp tacos, made from Carolina shrimp we picked up earlier.  And then we will settle down to finish what will be the first of many books to be read, with the door ajar, and the sound of the ocean outside.

We like to post quotes on the little blackboard in our kitchen back home, and we do the same here.  Martha posted this one a little while ago while I was writing, and it is wonderfully appropriate for the start of a New Year.

If you want this to be your year:  

Don't sit on the couch and wait for it.   

Go out.  Make a change.  Smile more.  Be excited.  

Do new things.  Throw away clutter.
Unfollow negative people on social media.   

Go to bed early.  Wake up early.
Don't gossip.  Show more gratitude.   

Do things that challenge you.   

Be brave.