I never finished my cliff walk the other day — barely got started, waylaid by visions of surfing and the like. So I cheated and jumped ahead nearly to the end the next day, Saturday, a chilly day. The weather has been such a yo-yo lately: warm, cold, warm, cold.
I began at Ledge Road and wound my way around the corner to Reject Beach (what a destination). And, instead of keeping an eye out for the usual wet or muddy spots on those outer reaches, where there is no path as one marches over and between the rocks beyond Rough Point — can you believe these names?? — I was aware of ice.
The seaweed and algae continue to bloom brightly — even more brightly than usual, it seems. And in holiday red and green, coincidentally enough, cloaking some rocks completely and others not at all.
The tide was way out, revealing the entirety of those aged wooden ribs of mysterious origin where children large and small are drawn to muck about in the summertime.
What were those ribs, anyway??
Who set that rusted ring in the rocks, above??
Why don't seagulls get cold feet??
There may be answers, but questions are more interesting (at times) ...