# 98 Blonde Curls

Blonde Curls.

Blonde Curls bouncing in the sparkling sun, a young man walks towards the waves, his body encased in black neoprene, a multicolored long board carried in capable arms, and at his side a lovely young woman similarly clad carries a plain white board walks with just a tad less swagger of confidence although her face is beaming the joy of beach promise on an early June afternoon.

The Lilacs are a bit past peak with the Bridal Veil Spirea coming into full flower. The beach roses started to bloom a few days ago, Rosa Rugosa, apparently an invasive species which sweetens the air. Close your eyes and sniff. You will know it is June by only your senses–the air with just a bit of chill even at low tide, the wafts of rose perfume edged with brine. I’ve been feeling the rhythms of air and warmth each day: an early morning high tide without a north wind will be the warmest part of the day right at water’s edge. As the tide moves in the breeze shifts, the result being a quick drop in air temperature and a reach for outerwear.  The early June ocean measures in the 50’s and an onshore breeze moving across the water means extra layers. In town or just a few miles inland, the sun bakes cars and people. A hot day! But out by the water mid- afternoon is often chilly especially at high tide.

June is the promise month, the month partners choose to mark a new life beginning in celebrations with family and friends. June also brings the contrasts in air and water temperature that creates the “marine layer”, i.e., fog. The chill and gloom of it near to the ground while just above there is haze and above that sun and warmth a just cause for running errands or an excuse to drive into town to get hot for a bit so to as to alter perspective when you return to the cool grayness. No air conditioning needed. It is possible to go through an entire June day wrapped in fog swirls. Dark horizon trees fade and turn pale in the almost-gloom. When horn starts blowing, it’s intervals either comfort or get on your nerves. So many visitors love this briny mist, the images on paint or paper or screens carried with love back home perhaps to hang on walls as far away reminders of a particular early coastal summer’s beauty.

Visitors return more timidly this June. Some beach houses stand empty and waiting. The Governor’s visitor’s requirement of a 14 day quarantine is still in effect. Some pay heed, others defy, some pretend this place is the same as always even when it’s not. The locals askance views of out of state license plates speak volumes: there is fear in the air mingled with nature’s June-ness. What might lurk in cars headed north besides happy tourists and their dollars?

Don’t we all want to escape to the beach, to shiver in the cold water, and fill our shoes with gritty sand? What we most seek is happy oblivion, a break from unknowns, laughter and sharing, ice cream and hugs, wet towels and fried seafood. This June everything is tinged with worry. Only the beach dogs raise their tails in joy, chase their balls on hard sand, loving you and this, the ocean at the beginning of summer, filled with promise and hope.

One thought on “# 98 Blonde Curls

  1. I would give anything to be transported to your beach today. Beam me up Scotty! Instead I am trying to find something new to discover in my little 60 miles section of rural America. Coastal Maine seems as far away as the moon in this pandemic. PS love your poem!

    Like

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