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 11^th, 2020, location, timing, and luck have aligned quite magically at Bethel Beach.