Sesachacha Pond:
Beach rose hips growing on the dunes near the pond. Not quite as large as the ones on Sconset (which were out of season this late in the fall), they were nevertheless big enough to be picked and eaten like tiny, tart apples. One of these days, when I hit the island at the right time, I hope to collect enough beach rose hips to make jelly. There were only a tiny handful left on this trip, though, so I just ate the ones I found.
Quidnet Beach:
A Special Crunchy Treat that I found washed up on the shore and gave to Crooky. I still have no idea what this unfortunate creature might have been. I'm presuming some kind of baby eel? It was dried and had a light crust of salt and Crooky thought it was magically delicious, whatever it might have been.
Tom Nevers Beach:
This was a weird, stormy, almost postapocalyptic walk. The surf was deafeningly loud, the waves were high and violent, and the wind was merciless (if you look hard, you can see Pongu's ears flipping in the wind in that picture, and that's also why Crooky's tail is bent so sharply).
It was all very atmospheric, though. We saw a bunch of seals floating along the shore, apparently bodysurfing the enormous waves, and they all turned to watch us curiously. One even followed alongside us for half an hour or so, almost as if he were wondering why on earth our eccentric little party was out there on the beach that day. No one else was; we never saw another dog or person the entire time. Only tracks.
Peter wanted to head east and go exploring on a far stretch of the beach that we'd never reached before. It seemed like a fun adventure so I agreed.
Alas, we badly misjudged how far we'd gone from the car and how fast our sunlight was going to run out.
We ended up about 75 minutes away from the parking lot after dark. So, for an hour and some change, we just walked back along the beach, following the curve of the sand. It was a cloudy night and I couldn't see the dogs unless they were standing on the white sand, which mostly they weren't, because there were deer coming out to graze on the beach grass after dark. I heard Pongu and Crooky chase after the deer a few times.
They always came back, though, and they reached the car side-by-side with me and hopped happily inside when I opened the door. No leashes, no treats, no cajoling.
It was a test of our relationship that the dogs stayed with us in the dark, and of course they came through. Of course they did. To them it was no different than any other hike.
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