Away & back

 

All forecasts pointed to dismal weather, but the sun had other ideas. The heat and humidity were shockingly equatorial for the Outer Banks in September. A strange compromise between New England's rowdy, freezing salt smash and the Emerald Coast's gentle, sterilized smoothness.

Swimmers were warned out of the water because of fierce undertows. We perched on the high-water mark, then ventured in, old lady style.

 The water was warm, edgy, and mostly devoid of life. It felt like another planet. An angry one. 

Ankle deep, the sand being snatched from under my feet by greedy waves, I said, "Mother forgive me. It's been years since my last visit." Mother sizzled around my feet, threatening to unbalance and upend me. I'd been warned. Retreat was easy, smart.