Zelia doesn't like the beach ("It's too hot and the water's too cold"), and I live for the beach. It's $40 to park for the day so it's better to get a ride.
We are only 15 minutes away from Cooper's Beach. It is ranked among the top ten in the US.
The plan is this: Well get to the beach early, take a long walk, and then Zelia will pick me up later.
The beach is empty at 8 a.m.
Cooper's Beach in Southampton |
Zelia admits that on this glorious day, it's not too hot (there's a great breeze), and the water's not too cold. In fact, it's pretty perfect.
Zelia in morning light |
Zelia leaves around 9, but promises to come back later, and stay for a few hours.
Cooper's Beach is deserving of its accolades. Miles and miles of soft white sand, no seaweed anywhere, and big, surfable waves.
The beach is empty, except for a few dog-walkers and runners. I buy a coffee and find a deserted spot (any spot is deserted at this hour) right near the water's edge.
I settle in with a new book (Liane Moriarty's Truly, Madly Guilty) and my coffee. About a half hour later, a very large multi-generational family comes and pitches a tent about 6 inches from where I'm sitting.
And then, about 15 minutes after that, a lone guy squeezes his towel and backpack in between me and the family.
This is despite a still-deserted beach. It's like being in an empty movie theater and having someone sit down next to you.
I want to scream, "HAVEN'T YOU ANY BEACH ETIQUETTE?" I MEAN, REALLY, PEOPLE
WHERE'S YOUR COMMON SENSE? Instead, I move a few feet down.
A guy not far from us is conducting business on his phone, in a voice so loud he's impossible to ignore. Zelia gets up, stands right next to him, and then begins an equally loud conversation with me, several feet away.
The strategy is successful and the guy moves.
I think I need my own beach.
We leave around three.
I can't remember ever being on a beach for seven hours. But when the weather is so perfect, and the beach so majestic, there is no better way to spend a day.