Recently, when I've written these trip reports, they have been frenetically full of all the places we visited and things we have seen. Not this time. This trip was meant as a two-day reset.
This place we stay is a small affair, only a dozen rooms, nine with beautiful views of the ocean. The two front rooms are right on the beach to the point where storms have tried to wash them out to sea. It was under new ownership again, as it seems to be each time we return. The newest ones have put in new lights, new fixtures, new furniture, paint and tile. Now they have wifi and satellite TV though we barely turned it on. But still no phones in the rooms, which is nice.
This is the Florida coast much as it might have looked one hundred years ago. As you walk the shore, all you see is ocean, sand, sky and scrub, with the occasional stairs leading down to the beach. The houses are set back into the trees, with only a few roof peaks peeking above foliage, a few windows visible from directly out. And just a few fellow wanderers enjoying the autumn sun.
We spent our days walking the beach and reading in the shade of the deck. The days were warm, but not too warm, the nights cool but not too cool. The sand is a beautiful white you don't see as much on the Atlantic.
Mornings, we watched a fisherman cast into the surf and a scuba diver prepare his kayak for his outing as we drank our coffee and ate our bagels at the table in our room. The room had everything we needed, a fridge, a micro, a coffee maker, a toaster. We brought our regular breakfasts and lunches with us. For dinner, we ate rotisserie chicken and drank white wine from the Publix less than fifteen minutes away.
We hunted sharks' teeth by the water. When we started, I wondered if my eyes were still good enough to pick them out against the sand. When I was sixteen, I could spot the really tiny ones, an eighth of an inch or less. I handed Karen one just over that size after a little searching in the surf zone. I guess my eyes still work, at least in bright daylight. We picked up a handful of brightly colored shells and one piece of clear beach glass.
As we walked, Karen took pictures of the birds we saw along the shore. Regal blue herons, furtive night herons, spastic sanderlings, probing willets. We saw dolphin in groups of twos and threes hunting several times near shore.
In the evening, we watched the sunsets and looked for a green flash we didn't get to see. There were clouds and haze that lit up on the horizon. When the sun was gone, they shone a few minutes longer like frosted red and orange glass with a dying candle behind them.
As we walked the beach at night, crabs scurried back into the surf to get out of our way, sometimes right over our feet. The beach was dark at night. The moon was bright and full. The stars were only washed out by its brightness, the only light pollution from Venice and Sarasota far to the north. The shadows it cast spilled across the deck by the water. This would be a perfect place to watch a meteor shower, which we are considering when the Geminids come around in December. It's a turtle nesting area, so there aren't an abundance of artificial lights.
As we slept, we could hear the waves lapping on the shore. We could smell the sand and salt air. So peaceful.
On our way back, we explored downtown Venice which has come up a little bit since our last visit to include a few nice boutiques and sidewalk bistros. A tempting little diversion for a day.
After two very relaxing nights, we came home with gently tinking, clinking memories and pockets full of wonder, looking forward to the next time we return. This time, we don't intend to let it get to be so long between visits.
© 2010 Edward P. Morgan III
