Boots & Bras

Forty-five minutes of walking on the beach will yield a bucketful of either trash or treasure. On Tuesday you may stumble across a left shoe (usually the wrong size), and on Wednesday wonder at the slightly sandy and very salty brassiere that catches on a toe when eyes are focused on other than the sand. On those pristine beaches where we see few or small numbers of people, the bits and pieces are more often than not something natural and organic to the area, but it just may be that such unblemished beaches are more and more a product of Hollywood fantasy. The ugly footprint of humanity is fast becoming the dominant signature on white sand everywhere.

I live on what anyone would describe as a clean and beautiful stretch of white sand beach, a long shimmering ribbon of foaming surf, sea turtles, countless birds and seashells—a national park under the protection of not just county and state, but federal government as well. It is monitored daily by the Beach Patrol, marine biologists and trash collectors as well. Each day that I walk on the beach I encounter all three. My point is, the beach is not left to itself, but is patrolled and well looked after.

Unfortunately, it would take more personnel than is possible to keep it all looking like a retouched postcard or vacation brochure. The thing is, a large number of people are either careless or uncaring during their time at the beach. No, certainly not everyone, and thankfully not anywhere near a majority. But you might be surprised at what a weekend crowd can do to soil a beach. Technology being what it is today, most of the litter is in the form of non-biodegradable materials—plastic bottles, caps, bags, Styrofoam, twine and cigarette butts. One of the regular trash collectors explained that the largest amount of litter is in the form of plastic bottle caps, and the labels, also plastic, on water and soft drink bottles. It’s my guess that from his elevated seat on the dune buggy he drives, he either misses or ignores the ever-present cigarette butts. No question in my mind that butts are the most prevalent form of litter, on either beach or street. I’ve yet to see here in the US the little device that is growing in popularity in Japan. It is a small, lightweight, fireproof pocket-sized butt case for use on streets and in parks, and helps to keep public areas free of discarded cigarette butts. No reason this handy little item couldn’t be used on beaches as well as streets and parks.

Might not be a bad idea to strive toward lessening the human footprint everywhere, beaches or otherwise.

The photos…

Top photo is an example of the natural beauty that can be found on a thirty minute beach walk; bottom photo is also the fruit of thirty minutes collecting on even a ‘clean’ beach.

Bits & Pieces

With no specific thought in mind, nothing that has commanded my thoughts today, I decided to post some bits and pieces together on the same sheet of paper and call them scriblets.

THE GAZEBO

There’s a new form of litter in town. I can’t say when exactly it was that beach gazebo-cabanas became so popular, so ubiquitous at the beach, but these days they’re more popular than iPods. On weekends at this time of summer, the beach in both directions is a long ribbon of flapping canvas, a wavering line of beach gazebos. It’s easy to see the attraction for many people on holiday, spending tourist dollars, but there’s one thing they don’t print on the box. It’s almost guaranteed to be good for just one vacation. Poorly made of cheap materials, and subject to a heavy lashing of wind and salt air—That’s the average $50 gazebo most vacationers are buying today. And right here is born that new form of litter. With the daily stress of wind and salt, the joints and hinges get 'mechanical arthritis’ and won’t cooperate in being folded and put away. So people just abandon the naked skeleton of a wind-bent gazebo on the beach and return home to Pleasantville. There it stays for a week or two until the beach maintenance team hauls it away.

THE BOOKSTORE

In December of 1979 Mandala Books in Daytona opened, a huge rambling space crammed with used books, in all categories, including signed first editions. I have enjoyed many hours of quiet browsing at Mandala, so am hugely disappointed that today was their final day of business. Mandala Books closed its doors for the last time today. It will be missed.

THE BAYOU

Bayou Teche is a long and culturally important waterway curling through a part of southern Louisiana. The name ‘teche’ is an Indian word meaning ‘snake.’ Naturally, the Indians long ago looked at the bayou’s twists and curls and thought of a snake. An ancient story tells of a big snake that attacked their villages. It required many years and the lives of many warriors to finally kill the snake. They left the huge carcass where it died, and there is decomposed. Rain eventually filled the snaked-shaped depression left behind and became Bayou Teche.