77: Location. Time. Luck.
O N E M O, V A
Three ingredients create magic when outdoors. First, choose a great location. Second, time the visit right. And third, hope for a little luck. If all three align well, magic happens.
One: Location
The Potomac River
flows past George Washington’s home and our nation’s capital, and then into the
Chesapeake Bay. The James River flows
from the Blue Ridge Mountains, past America’s first settlement of Jamestown,
and on into the Chesapeake Bay. Exactly
between these two famously historic rivers juts the middle peninsula of
Virginia. And at the tip of this
peninsula is the great location chosen for today’s trip outdoors.
Two: Time
For most others,
Friday morning in December is not an ideal time to visit a beach, but that’s
exactly why I chose Friday morning in December to visit a beach.
Three:
Luck
I have plenty
today.
The two-hour,
early morning drive from Richmond to Bethel Beach starts out noisily on wide
urban highways full of commuters and bright lights but slowly transitions with
each passing mile to thinner, quieter country roads. Toward the end, it’s just a slowly-driven,
rutted gravel track leading to the very western edge of the Chesapeake
Bay. The tiny parking lot is empty so I
pull as close to water’s edge as possible.
Stepping over the dune reveals a brilliant sunrise cresting just above
the watery horizon. Magic has
begun.
Bethel Beach is
not static; sands shift with the wind and tides continually re-forming the
beach, dunes, and over-wash inlet; each of which define this 105-acre preserve. The property falls under protection of
Virginia’s Natural Area Preserve program.
The Nature Conservancy was instrumental in arranging for the funding,
acquisition and transfer of this ecologically valuable area into the state’s
hands. Amid the shifting landscape are
ideal habitats for rare plants and animals including the scurrying northeastern
beach tiger beetle and the dynamic-flying Northern Harrier hawk.
Walking down the
desolate and beautiful beach, my senses come alive. The crisp light of sunrise adds golden hue to
the sand, waves, and seagrass. Photographers
know that the early bird gets the golden worm.
I follow the shoreline as it curls into the over-wash inlet walking all
the way to the very edge where sand becomes molten-like. The mushiness underfoot gives way triggering
a touch of vertigo; not the nauseating version though, just a touch of
delightful dizziness.
The lapping waves,
gentle breeze, discordant shorebird calls, and total lack of anything
artificial makes for a perfect symphonic blend.
Standing still in the sand and simply listening to Bethel Beach is
amazing. With closed eyes, the power of
this rare auditory alignment is even more special.
Nearer the dunes,
a starchy, sea-oat smell wafts in, similar to a hearty wheat beer. Combining oats with the sulphur-like richness
of seawater produces a classic shoreline aroma.
Standing still in the dune and simply smelling Bethel Beach is
amazing. And yes, even better with eyes
closed.
Early morning
brings chilly temperatures, but countering that is direct golden sunshine and
the right choice of clothing. The
December briskness is perfectly countered, rendering ideally comfortable
temperatures. Standing still feeling the
comfort of Bethel Beach is amazing - a stasis so different from the climate
controlled environment I too-often exist in.
Before beginning
to wander back up the beach, I find a spot in the dunes to simply sit and let
more of Bethel’s sensory experience in.
With that decision comes a valuable lesson. Often at beautiful places like Bethel
adrenaline has me flitting about, too-often hurrying past the richness that’s
more revealed by patience. Sitting among
the dunes, I force myself to let the sense of Bethel Beach come to me. For a long time I’m still.
I think I found a
new place to sprinkle my ashes.
With this patience
comes a more holistic experience. I
notice the subtle shapes and colors of the seagrasses and the grit of the
sand. Birds grow comfortable and move
closer in when I’m not moving. The
slight changes in light as the sun rises are more noticeable. And the fact that I’m still the only one at
this beach becomes more distinctive with each passing minute.
Distinctive too is
this revelation: to live with awareness that quiet contemplation in beautiful
places enjoying the fruits of imagery, natural history and ecological
interactions is an amazing predilection.
Among the last few
steps of this Bethel visit I spot a large darting bird. I lock my lens on the swift movements above
the marshy terrain. After several clicks
I’m convinced: Bethel’s marsh is one of only a few places in Virginia that
provides nesting sites for the Northern Harrier, a hawk that commonly nests in
more northern regions. Capturing this
rare harrier has been icing on the cake; adding one last dose of good luck to
this special day.
On the morning of
December 11th, 2020, location,
timing, and luck have aligned quite magically at Bethel Beach.
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