I really wanted to take Marge for a hike today, because it's now been a couple of weeks since our last woodland adventure. However, I slept in pretty late following a night-owl kind of night yesterday, staying up and browsing the internet for who knows what. So, the beach would have to be the best substitute. Marge, my sister and I headed for the shore.
Dogs aren't allowed on open New York City beaches during the beach season, spanning from May to October, I believe. This excludes the strip of beach near my house where there are no lifeguards, park personnel, etc (I suppose you can call this a "closed" beach), but does include other nearby beaches. So, this marks the first time in a long time that we've been on this particular stretch of sand. Since it is so vast, I knew that despite the warm weather, we'd be able to avoid the throngs of people out enjoying the end of the really rainy week we had.
The colors were so vivid. The sun was striking at an odd angle, since it sets so early now. As long as we could avoid the shadows, we got some pretty nice pictures. All the while, Marge explored and trotted gingerly from rock to rock, shell to shell.
And, of course, no beach day would be complete without a big wide Marge grin, her eyes glimmering and specks of sand dotting her otherwise pitch black nose.
She explored the rocks next to the jetty, but the waves soon came pouring over them, causing Marge to want to get to higher ground as quick as she could. She leapt from the rocks onto the big cement pier. After all our excursions at the beach, she still wants absolutely nothing to do with the water, since it isn't still and peaceful like the lakes and ponds in the woods.
Marge seemed tired on the way back, as we navigated through the minefield of bird prints, dog prints, and human footprints. Our walk was about an hour long total, and it was unseasonably warm, so it wasn't surprising that Marge was a little slow as we made our way to the car.