Early Sunday morning, my lady and I were at Clam Beach. While she walked her dogs, I decided to do a bit of a jog. I am sure the boys from Spinal Tap would have objected, but the increased heart rate was just fine with me. As I was on my way to catch my lady and her dogs, I came across these shoes. Now, there was not a soul within a thousand yards of them. Nobody was close by playing in the tide. Nobody was nearby searching for shoes behind every rock, or log. I was tempted to ditch my shoes, and go barefoot. I ultimately passed.
We were at the beach early, and it was nice. The few people that had arrived before us were already making their way on the shore. The day was sunny and warm up at Clam Beach. It was a gift.
So nice was the day that somebody up and left a pair of shoes behind.
It got me thinking…what have I left on the beach? Well, I recall a jacket, hat, firewood that was never used, the metal frame of a burnt out sleeper sofa (Mr. Pat can testify to that), and several golf balls launched from dunes overlooking the beach.