Footprints In The Sand

If you are fortunate enough to find yourself in a beautiful resort on the beach, it is mandatory that you explore the sands, no matter how appealing the pool and its wet bar may be.

The view from one of the higher perches in the resort.
Photographer was tilted...not the horizon.

Mary is fulfilling her obligation to explore,
heading off toward the north.

But the sands soon meet the rocks.

Maybe there's a way through the jagged footing to the sand beyond...

...for a better look at the shack atop the next hill.

Just time the waves, sneak through the arch, and then scale the rocks beyond.

Nope.
Time to retrace steps back to the sand.

Avoid stepping on other beach walkers.

Another rocky point forces one back up the stairs and through the resort
to get back down to the sand on the other side.

Not like the beach, but not a bad walk, either.

That's more like it.

The Westin, right next to where we stayed, was buzzing with construction activity.
It was heavily damaged when Hurricane Odile slammed into Cabo San Lucas in 2015.
What are the odds that the rebuilding will be impervious to hurricanes?

Mary makes footprints.  She's good at it.

But alas, the lass cannot make them last.

The waterfall from this rocky plateau flowed continuously,
since each successive wave refilled the central basin.

Just the tip of the rockberg.

Changing types of rocks appeared along the way,
but none were an insurmountable barrier to bipedal locomotion.

I see Mary sitting on the rockman's shoulder, near his face,
as he claws his way out of the sand.

The flow has done a little sand sculpting.
Be careful not to get caught by the Undertoad,
who lives underwater and pulls in the careless.

A great day for a walk.

Or to fly in the clear blue sky.

Unconcerned with who watches below.

 

Or perhaps watching he who walks below.

And then flying on, unconcerned.

Time to turn around...

...and head back!

A good walk is its own reward.  

And as Mary says, "Si camino más, más margaritas!"

(If I walk more, more margaritas!)

Day 2 on Sanibel Island

Always lots of great stuff to see when you walk on the beach.

Morning walk.
Sleepy pelican.

Windy on the beach.

Long-legged ladies are unlikely to languish.

A tri-colored heron in flying postition.

A crab in a conch shell.
I threw him back to the water before the birds found him.

I need a kite.

Creative kids working the beach beat.

Appealing, no?

The pelican tree.

I had not realized they grew on trees.

Getting ready for the big game.

The blackbirds are shiny here.
Is it the sun and heat that bring the oils out to make the flat black birds glisten?
Seems to work for the tourists who slather on the sunscreen.

Some of the places on the water are palatial.
Castles, in fact.

Lots of beachcombers.
If you want the best shells, get out on the beach early.

The beach is a good place to relax.

We weren't the only people on the beach.

Brilliant colors make the copies of Adirondack chairs almost acceptable.

So many shells.
Ankle deep in some places,
there are so many that they crack under your feet as you walk.

Shellfish appeal to many.

The shells often catch bits of the sea
that glisten in the sun.

You don't want to miss the bizarro dogs.
I think Ginger, our bichon poo, is due for a new look.

And much later, another fine sunset.