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| Spring! ... Nah, just kidding! |
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| No more stairs, but this way to the new, improved path to Nauset Light Beach in Eastham |
Meanwhile, as I was taking advantage of a stormy day to read the article about the new path, there were two storms converging to form a ripsnortin' Nor'easter that settled right over Cape Cod for a couple of days and nights. Although this was not a snow event for us, the full moon would cause higher than usual tides, and with 2-3 inches of rain due, a 3-4 foot storm surge with flooding was predicted. Our weekend B&B guests wisely decided to reschedule. Power and cable were no match for gusts of up to 93 mph, so we decided that it would be a great time to check out our new footpath to the beach, and the greatest show on earth. Our windows were so coated with salt from gusts off the ocean, we couldn't see much detail from inside, reminding me of the old Hollywood trick of coating a camera lens with vaseline to minimize the signs of aging. I saw a lot of Windex in my future. Our first challenge was getting out of our own back door, which was blocked by all the porch furniture which had been pushed in front of it by mighty wind gusts, and noisily, I might add. In the dark of night on limited generator power, it's difficult to tell what's banging around where. It's just a given that nature has its own pruning and rearranging agenda.
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| The new inviting walk to Nauset Light Beach |
I must say, the winding walk down through the woods is truly lovely, and I was also really glad for the fence posts to grab on to because the wind gusts at my back had me descending at a far greater speed than I intended. To our surprise, we were greeted by waves crashing through the new cut and flowing upwards into our new pathway until they found a low spot rerouting them down into the woods to form a foamy, new pond. Climbing to a higher vantage on top of the bluff, we crept closer to the opening and joined a few other brave souls to witness the intensity of the Cape Cod National Seashore's real boss. We were cautioned that a couple of people had already been washed off the bluff and had been lucky to be helped to safety. As a veteran of having been surprised by rogue waves in much calmer weather while concentrating on getting a perfect shot, I've gone home with frozen, soggy shoes and socks before, but this definitely begged for extra vigilance and caution.
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| We didn't even have to walk out to the beach, the ocean came to meet us. |
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| And, boy did it! |
We watched in rapt fascination as sea foam floated through the air like snow, and it was all I could do to hold my camera steady against the gusts of wind to catch the intensity of the waves breaking. We were mesmerized for hours by the roar of the ocean, the feel and smell of salt spray, the anticipation of where the next breach over the bluffs would come, the camaraderie and comparing of notes with our fellow adventurers and the constant bracing against our unseen opponent, the wind, that tested our balance and strength.
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| The remodeling of Nauset Light Beach |
When we finally pulled ourselves away and trudged up the hill, this time against the wind, with sand gritting in our teeth and eyes, we were exhausted down to a cellular level, no match at all against raw nature, yet giddily elated to have had the chance.
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| Next stop, a nap under a fleece blanket. |
Despite having a generator to keep us warm and from falling over each other in the dark, when the cable also goes down, taking our internet and television with it, our world suddenly gets very tiny. It's roughly defined by the radio, when the station is able to maintain power, how many roads are not blocked off for passage due to flooding, and the bits of information from encounters with fellow adventurers looking for supplies, and just seeing with their own eyes what is left of their favorite places.
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| Neighborhood roads became rivers. |
And, then returning to our own neighborhood, we were stunned to see our neighbor's iconic tree down across her front yard, which is at the foot of the National Seashore's Fort Hill lookout. The roots were no match for the wind gusts and they stuck stiffly and undignified up into the air. The once strong and stately branches were beached like a big, wooden whale skeleton. The swing that once hung, as if from the clouds, was buried somewhere in the tangle. The number of trees in the world that would earn the title of "iconic" are maybe in the dozens, but when you consider the hundreds of thousands of people who visit this scenic lookout and have stopped to take a picture of this majestic beauty and admire its seemingly eternal serenity, the title iconic is not an unreasonable stretch. Now that power and internet were restored, word and pictures have spread, and comments and condolences are also being shared from far and wide for the destruction of this arresting view that touched so many. When I realized they were still without power, I invited our very creative and resilient friend and neighbor, Sarah, to take advantage of one of our generator supported suites. I was greeted at the door with one of her awesome hugs and the aroma of homemade chicken soup, and I suddenly realized that Sarah's spirit is what is left of the tree, long after whatever becomes of its devastation.
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| "To every thing there is a season." |
We were also astonished to learn that the popular Orleans Nauset Beach [not to be confused with Eastham's Nauset Light Beach] had ALL of their protective dunes wiped out and had been reduced to just a few feet of unprotected beach, putting a couple of very popular structures in danger. I thought about how this would affect the innkeepers and families who enjoyed countless, annual family beach week traditions. Later in the week, we learned that the bandstand, where so many have enjoyed free summer concerts for decades, had to be relocated to the top end of the remaining parking lot for now, to save it from an unscheduled voyage out to sea. There is talk, and of course protests, about cancelling this summer's free concert program.
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| But, you can't take the music... |
The decades-long favorite beach snack-shack, Liam's, known world-wide to travelers for its scrumptious onion rings and shore grub was also a casualty for despairing Cape Codders. The best engineering predictions had estimated another good 3-4 years safety for the spot, but Riley, the Nor'easter was unimpressed by that report. Many gathered to mourn and witness its dismantling, and messages of shocked condolences have also come in for Liam's on social media from all over the world.
But, Riley's stormy friends had obviously heard about what a great time he'd had on Cape Cod and a second contingent arrived in the form of a nasty little wannabe storm dubbed 'Quinn' that kept already flooded areas high and brought down the trees that had already been compromised, but needed an extra push. This did not improve the dispositions of grumpy Cape Codders who were still without power from the first storm. Shelters reopened to provide warmth and food. But, we still hadn't had a Nor'easter on Cape Cod that included a blizzard this winter and just a few days later 'Skylar' joined the party, dumping heavy, slushy snow with an appetite for more trees. This took down the wires for a third time with a snow day for the kids and a lot of businesses without power. With the Ides of March upon us, I couldn't imagine what would come next.
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| But, the birds knew, and they found safe shelter from the winds on the front porch. |
I spoke too soon. After energetically shoveling snow paths for hours the day before, the 'Ides', which has a wicked sense of humor, thought it would be clever if I then pulled a back muscle while making the bed the next morning. And, just to make a point, sent a fourth Nor'easter our way on the first day of Spring. But, Storm #4, named Toby, packed very little punch for Cape Cod, leaving eager snow plowers who were ready to supplement their winter income with nothing to do but drive around in the beautiful flurries and show off their equipment.
As each new winter storm season punishes the coastline, there is also usually something interesting to learn about the past:
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| An aerial shot by Danya Mahota showing exposed peat beds on Orleans' Nauset Beach |
After the second storm, Lt. Kevin Higgins of the Orleans Police Department, a 14th generation Cape Codder from Orleans, went to check on the damage to the imperiled Liam's snack shack, which he had been monitoring closely. What caught his eye were large, newly exposed peat beds, which is not all that unusual after storms. But, looking closer, he discerned a pattern of tracks from carriages, and horseshoe imprints that had been preserved by many layers of sand. It was determined that they were most likely from the late-1800's to early-1900's when horse and carriages, or mules and work carts worked the outer beach, bringing supplies to fishermens' cabins, and were also used to harvest beach grass and peat, which was burned as fuel. Higgins recalled the stories his grandfather had told him about how Cape Codders survived in that era. The ocean may seemingly bury the past, but when we least expect it, uncovers it for all to remember. "This is the game Mother Nature plays." Higgins added.
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| If you look closely towards the bottom you can see hoof prints among the tracks. |
CapeCodWeather.net indicates that we haven't seen our last frost, but the daytime temperatures are definitely trending towards more Springlike weather. The flower bulbs are proceeding with certainty, but we know they can easily be fooled. So can the nearby guests from Connecticut, New Hampshire, Vermont and Massachusetts, who have been braving the abnormal Winter and Spring weather to stay with us while they take advantage of the last days of Off-Season rates. Summer bookings have been enthusiastic, but we are not there, yet.
