Bruce comes back on shore to dry off and our eyes turn to the sky as a small plane flies overhead. As it disappears beyond the trees farther inland, we notice the sun’s rays are coming through high, thin clouds, leaving a spectacular “fan” effect over the water. A pair of seagulls are riding the air currents, and I begin snapping pictures as they come into the viewfinder, hoping to get the perfect shot.
A new, much larger bird shows up in my viewfinder. No way! Not 20 feet above the beach, just overhead, is a bald eagle. I get so excited, I hand the camera to Bruce. He gets a shot of the eagle, flying away from us, perhaps a football field or more away now. No loss; that shot is among those that mystically disappear between the camera photo review function and the computer download.
We sit on the beach and watch the families play around us, the waves crashing on the shore, the gulls in flight (hoping that maybe, just maybe, we’ll get another view of the eagle).
Minutes turn to hours and soon perfect moms are bringing out the perfect picnic — chilled meat and cheese sandwiches, chips, fresh fruit, and homebaked cookies. Shaina has dropped her hood to get a closer look and I hear her, leaning over a particularly perfect repast with a loud “Mmmmmmm!” I imagine she is salivating into their food and I realize she might be hungry (since she didn’t partake of much of the authentic Scandinavian breakfast).
It is just too lovely to leave the beach yet, so I go to the car to retrieve our lunch. I give the car mats a quick spritz with Renuzit, hover over the seat in the outhouse (which has not been cleaned in the three weeks since the state shutdown) and return several minutes later with my offering — two warm juice boxes, a package of frosted strawberry Pop Tarts, a bag of potato chips and handful of warm Tootsie Rolls. Shaina turns up her nose, grabs a Pop Tart, pulls up her hood and returns to her perch, hovering over the picnickers like a vulture waiting for the crows to leave their roadkill.
Sigh. It might be best to leave. Another reminder that there is something to be said for at least a little planning before a trip.