Last night Lou Ann, Lachlan, & I went to the beach. We took a chair so Lou Ann & Lachlan could sit in the bed of the pickup truck (once we were on the beach, of course). Lachlan took off through the soft sand as soon as I stopped and he touched down. We rinsed him off in the surf (he was covered with mint chocolate chip ice cream).
We laid a blanket down in the sand, but, alas, there were no stars. The sky was grey and bleak. We had hoped to catch some of the early shooting stars from the Perseids meteor shower. (The big night will be on Sunday.) It was getting late, so we packed up and rode back into the village. We made a stop at the lighthouse after realizing that Lachlan may never have visited the lighthouse in the dark of night. The soft beam cut through the mist and haze, casting a surreal glow on the keeper's quarters and the grounds. It felt comforting, and even a little bit creepy, all at the same time. Lachlan decided it was time to go back home....so we did.
Our latest Ocracoke Newsletter is the story of the Black Squall, a brig loaded with circus animals that wrecked on Ocracoke in April of 1861. You can read it here.
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