Hooks

"The Pines really knows how to get its hooks in you," observed Chris, who made his first visit since the pandemic.

Varick, when he's not hurling garbage cans at his housemates, makes a big contribution to our house, too.  He mixed French cocktails (vodka, pineapple juice & a splash of Chambord)  . . . 

 

and cooked more than one fabulous meal.

Reclamation of the beach has allowed sculpture to last from one visit to the next.

Sand bikes are becoming more common, too.

I took a selfie in the Enchanted Forest.

The glorious sunset worked its magic on our Scrabble game.  Chris and I both Scrabbled on our first turns.   He won but our combined score (828) was the highest it has been since I began keeping track, more than a hundred games ago.

"Pube" is the only bogus word.  Which is your favorite?

Even after three decades, the natural wonders of the Pines can still surprise.  While swimming in the ocean, maybe 20 yards from the shore, I noticed splashes of water, like huge raindrops, all around even though the skies were only partly cloudy.  Upon emerging, I realized thousands of small fish had been surfacing. There were so many that they actually darkened large lengths of the ocean.  Even more astonishing, I could hear them in between roars of the surf.  As their bodies hit the water, it sounded like very muted applause.  A fly casting fisherman speculated they were mossbunker schools, also called menhaden.  A Google search provided more details about the phenomenon.