Salt Air

This photo's from yesterday. After the four hour car ride over the George Washington Bridge to the Long Island Expressway, a stop at the Lobster Inn off Highway 27 for a late lunch, and then the final push to the campground. I didn't get right into the ocean. But I could hear it. And smell it. I finally jumped in it...yes!

But not until we unpacked the car, set up the tents, cased the place on our bikes. It was very hot. But not as hot as today, which is why I'm holed up in the Montauk Library writing this post.

Hither Hills is a mix of tents and rv's, lots of kids on bikes, American flags, Tibetan prayer flags (thank you, Duncan), blue hydrangeas, very brown grass, dunes full of beach plums, a deliciously cold outside shower, and the ocean.

More later about sleeping in a tent, (did I say sleep?), using public restrooms (stumbling out of the tent at God knows what hour and peeing by the nearest bush), spending time with family...we're bonding big time, and life without a mirror, (amen).

So, this is a mish-mosh. A ramble. Blame it on the heat. Or maybe it's because I stepped on my new sunglasses and cracked a lens. Sh*t! Claire told me I need to stop saying that word.

Note: When in doubt, find the nearest library and cool off.

ps. can you smell the salt air?