February 5, 2011 We have a hail of a time beachcombing...

At 10:30 AM in 39 degrees (we hear it is in the 70s at home) Marcia and I go beach combing on the gulf side of this long but narrow barrier island. It begins to hail, lightly. The beach is pretty, the shelling not good, and it is very, very cold.

We encounter 20 other beachcombers, but they are being paid (presumably by BP) to sift for tar-balls from last year’s huge oil leak. They look cold, too, and they will be doing this for eight hours. There are pea-size to marble-size black balls on the beach but they are unlike beach tar we know. This looks like a make-work project more than anything, and maybe these people worked previously in industry hurt by the spill. It looks like a waste of time and money. We go back to camp as it starts to rain.

An hour later we venture out to explore the beach on the side of the island facing land. Less of the black stuff here, just dead jelly fish or man-of-war remains, and human trash of the traditional type – plastic bottles, trash bags, etc.

The original bridge to nowhere?

We pack and leave, driving as close to the gulf coast as we can. The sand is sugar-white and very fine,very beautiful.

Outside the park we pass through an area of pastel homes and three-story triplexes, with views to water, front and back. I have abut an 8-second fantasy – we retire to the top floor of one of these houses, and there I am, looking toward the gulf, computer on my lap, my three-year-old grandson asking me to show him again how to do an Excel spreadsheet. As we gaze toward the beach, we can see his sister and grandmother looking for shells and material for art projects.

Hello.

Parking for lunch is sometimes a challenge.

But soon the shoreline becomes more commercial and less happy looking – many “for sale” signs, and schlocky commercial spot as we leave higher income greater-Pensacola. We settle for the next two nights at Grayton Beach State Park ($33/night E,W,S). Hedda calls from the Hobo Rally in Blythe – she has just been named Hobo Queen. We are very proud of her, particularly knowing Marcia-provided boas and stuffed flamingos probably helped. (Hedda succeeded Marcia as “first lady” of our NorCal WBCCI unit.)