Frozen Bay

Sorry I'm without pictures.

My aunt took my parents and I to brunch in Chesapeake Beach today. We used to go here all the time, and this is the same place where we sometimes have Thanksgiving dinner. For the record, the food here is better than any brunch I've ever been to. I'll actually eat the pot-o-scrambled-eggs, the grits were not runny, and the cream chipped beef was more beef and less cream. Perfect. The cooks of the brunch we go to monthly in Annapolis can learn a few things here.

But anyway, the bay was frozen. Parts of it were. When my brother and I were young, the area in front (or is that really the back? More on the side, maybe) of the Rod'n'Reel Restaurant was beach. There were a couple jetties of rock that we could walk out on, and there were always sharks teeth to find. Now, there's a hotel, docks, breakers, and no sharks teeth. The beach has silted in so much that some of the spiffy new docks are unusable. This little area, between the rock jetties and behind the breakers, was all ice this morning. The gulls were standing on the water. They were really cute when they landed on it; all of them would slide a little bit on the ice. And the sky was so clear, we could see the islands on the Eastern shore. Almost clear enough for my $4000 eyes to count trees. Mmmmmmm....

It's kind of sad to see the development that Chesapeake Beach has endured over the years. Maybe that's why we stopped coming so often. Don't you sometimes wish people would just stop building? Like all the forests that are turning into half a million dollar houses that would cost about that much a month just to heat or cool. And my aunt, who used to have a cottage at Plum Point (have you ever seen the film Patriot Games? We passed that house to get to her cottage), said that flood insurance is near impossible to get. What's the point of building and living there in these expensive houses if it can all be washed away so easily?

Well, it's also near impossible to hold on to something you once loved when the world makes it go away.

The purpose of today's writing was not to get all nostalgic, but to say that today was a beautiful day, I got to hear the waves, and then I came home, finished a doll, and did a lot of knitting. Time slowed down a little today. It doesn't do that very often.