Arrival

Today, after eight hours of on-and-off driving, we reached our hotel on the beach of North Carolina’s Outer Banks. We stretched our cramped legs, checked in, and ran barefoot down to the water. The sand was freezing, and we ran back up pretty soon after, our feet numb. I put on shoes, we threw our luggage into the room, and then we headed back down, this time all wearing some sort of foot attire. Then we were able to appreciate the beach in its fullness.

The moon is waxing toward fullness, so bright in the clear night that she cast distinct shadows on the sand. We walked out on fine sand and gazed up at the stars. Since this is “off-season,” more than two-thirds of the beach houses are unoccupied, so their windows are dark and the beach is much darker, showing off the backdrop of night sky more dramatically. Over the water in the east, Orion was rising, his three-starred belt glimmering in the salty air. The ocean churned and peeled over itself and foamed, unending, immovable. At nighttime it seems especially sentient: the moon on the curling waves gleamed like light on the hide of a sea monster. These dragons flickered in the water, turning their black sides to the moonlight, then flipped over to reveal a long dorsal fin of foaming white before vanishing into the tide. We walked a couple miles, out to the pier and back, the cold air settling on us like dew. 

Now I’m back in the hotel room, exhausted (I keep forgetting that I’m still recovering from being sick for two weeks) and ready to curl up in bed. I’m glad to be at the ocean. I’m glad we’ve made it safely.

~Lisa Shafter