I was at the beach at 7.30 this morning, hoping to find a pristine beach after the night's very high Jose-tide. But already a jeep had besmirched the smooth sand leading to the wrecks. Fortunately the driver was perched at the wrecks drinking his coffee snugly inside (here is the lid he apparently left behind, on top of his fresh tracks:)
and fortunately he decided to leave the rest of the beach, stretching west beyond the last wrecks, to the next driver's tender care:
Once I ran beyond this point, the beach was splendid - even more so than yesterday, because this time the storm-driven high tide went all the way up to the dune line. In one location the wave action was even enough to efface the previous year's deep ruts:
Almost unbelievable - a rutless beach, a real beach, like one sees on travel posters, not the pitiful moonscape that usually passes for a beach in Riverhead. This is the beach the Native Americans and early settlers knew, indeed almost the beach we could all enjoy until the beach driving ramp was constructed, just before I came to Baiting Hollow, in 1991. The last time I saw it somewhat like this was after Hurricane Hermine's passage, just over a year ago.
I took a lot more pictures, since I might not ever see the beach lovely again as it should be, and could be, and briefly was this morning, in my lifetime.
there was of course some trash, mostly up at the exceptionally high water line:
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