We walked the beach this morning. It is three weeks post Hurricane Matthew. Our beach, which is a year round tourist attraction, looks very much unlike its usual bright and sunny self. The wide expanse of clean sand, host to happy visitors and carefully driving vehicles, seems to have vanished with the snow birds. In its place, Mother Nature has reclaimed something so wild and of-its-own-mind that post card views in comparative locations would be unrecognizable. Yet, it is beautiful in its own way, as the brutally untamed surf crashes up, reclaiming beach real estate not by inches, but by yards.
Before and after?
This is not forever. Soon the spring breakers will once again be greeted by colorful beach umbrellas and welcoming hotels that share their views of sun, sand, and waves for a price. For now, only the birds reign supreme as they harvest the freshly delivered morsels from the sea. Everything is cyclical. The birds, by some gravitational instinct, can still reduce what is necessary and what is beautiful to the most simple terms.