That Kind of Day

Cape Hatteras National Seashore
Outer Banks, NC

It’s the kind of day where you put a sweatshirt on over your pajamas for your morning coffee. You take a shower and get dressed, then put your sweatshirt on to walk the dog.

Coming back in for that second cup of coffee, you don’t bother to take your sweatshirt off, and before you know it, you’ve worn that shirt inside, outside, driving, exploring, lunching, shopping and walking the dog again.

It’s a sweatshirt kind of day.

The sky is a riot of kites. The ocean teams with windsurfers and sailboats. Parasailors launch themselves from water to heaven and back again. People with cameras litter the shores, trying to capture the pageantry. Everybody wears sweatshirts except the ones in wetsuits.

It’s useless to comb your hair. The gusts are non-stop. The sun competes with the wind for your soul: one warms you up, the other cools you off. As a result, you are neither hot nor cold. But your nose is almost icy and you find yourself sniffling a little.

It’s not a fall day, at least not the kind of fall I know. No leaves have turned, except for one variety of sea grass, so no fall colors are apparent. You don’t smell fire, or autumn decay anywhere. You smell beach, salty, clean and crisp.

You don’t wear fall clothes. You’re still in flip-flops, although you’ve traded your shorts for jeans. You’ve pulled on the usual tee shirt, but over it you’re wearing a sweatshirt.

It’s that kind of day.

It’s the kind of day you drive 40 miles just to look at a lighthouse. You stop on the way back at a crab shack for lunch and discover that the food is beyond delicious. Then you jump on your bike and look for things to photograph. You buy a new pair of your favorite sandals just because they’re on sale.

You launch your kite, only to have the wind whip it relentlessly about, and watch helplessly as it winds itself around and around the one the only lamp pole within a thousand yards of where you’re standing. And you abandon it there, because it’s kind of pretty and you think others will enjoy it while it lasts.

That’s the kind of day I’ve had. A sweatshirt kind of day.





Camp Hatteras