Excursion: Ponce Inlet

 Today we walked in Ponce Inlet; on the beach, on a wooden trail, and through the woods. A lot of people had dogs with them. We sat on the large rocks by the water, as it lapped on shore: glue-a-glug-a-glug. “I like that sound,” I said to John. We scooped wet sand into our hands and let the water dissolve it. We walked barefoot and carried our shoes. The wet sand is easy to walk on. The sand is speckled with broken shells and rocks. We trudged to the actual beach to find that the jetty is closed. There was a long black pipe stretched along the beach, perhaps connected to the barge in the water. “Do you see those poles on each side?” John said, “They’re called spuds.” Hmm. Like a potato, I thought. Everything is named for a reason; there is a history behind words (Ponce Inlet is surely named for Ponce de Leon). We saw a man surfing with a parachute in the ocean; it looked fun; he did some high jumps over the waves. “How far do you wanna go?” John asked after we had walked the beach for some distance; I said let’s take those steps and see where they go. “An adventure.” The old wooden pier meandered along thick brush, cactus, and palms (John hoped to see a turtle), until it emptied us at the road, where we picked up a “Nature Trail,” a sandy path through shady trees. I spotted a bright green lizard. “It’s the Geico gecko!” The trail also led back to the road again, so we walked to the car. I looked at John. “It’s up to you.” I wasn’t ready to leave, but we’d walked all up and down the beaches, and forgotten to take our frisbee.