Limantour Beach April 27, 2015

It was a brilliant Monday morning, hot with no sign of clouds or wind.  Normally in April, I am exhausted by the relentless assault of ocean air, but today seemed to promise a calm and sundrenched rest on Limantour Beach.  Into my large straw market bag I tossed sunblock and sunglasses, a beach towel, water and a few snacks, a collection of Chekhov stories, yesterday’s crossword puzzle, and a couple of pencils. 

Shortly before 11, I joined all of three other cars in the parking area, and on the beach I spied only eight other people as far as the eye could see in both directions, one sitting, the others walking.  I headed toward to the Limantour Spit, now closed to protect the young harbor seals, and eventually settled into a spot hidden in the beach grass, near a scrawny cypress.  How long had it been since I had spent time on a beach, alone, just sitting?

A ladybug, struggling to crawl out of a little depression in the sand, caught my eye.  He made no progress, sliding back into the pit each time, eventually tumbling onto his back.  I gently scooped my hand under the sand, hoping to lift him up and free him, but he disappeared and I was distraught.  I kept gently scooping sand and spreading it out, hoping he would emerge.  A light breeze blew over the sand, pixelating it and eventually uncovering the little bug who again struggled to right himself.  This time I shored him up with a flat stone, and he made it onto all sixes.  The sand blew off of him, and he flew away. 

By 1 pm, fog had obscured Chimney Rock, and then Drake’s Beach, and I knew it was heading toward me.  The Black Monk read and the top-left corner of the puzzle completed, I called it a day.  Back at the car, as started to fold up my towel, I discovered on it another ladybug.  I gave the towel a soft shake, and he flew off too.