we watch it all day from our penthouse “cocohut” – a Brian Eno like loop of waves crashing followed by a long exhalation during which we can hear the birdies and dogs and children and then CRASH ...
down on the beach we see things differently. herds of cows appear mysteriously in the morning – a sometimes solo grazer gazes back at us. RIPs –“ (not quite) Ready to Ignite (cow) Pies” – are harvested faithfully for cooking and construction projects. hungry harmless dogs come and go – it appears the $20 a head dog catcher made a sweep a few nites back. the sandpipers dance on tiny three toed feet – leaving their choreography in the sand for us to hopscotch.
tourists are still few and far between. the density is slowly increasing towards the Xmas peak but the merchants who have constructed four times as many huts as last year are nonetheless likely to be confronted with prime time vacancies
the beach has some sort of watchdog business group – paying for cleaning and prohibiting vendors and generally being invisibly efficient. some higher power surveyed the beach last summer and very visible red concrete marks the limits for hut erection – for which one deposits a significant sum of Rupees to be returned when the huts are taken down in May.
the full moon is significantly remodelling the beach. tides were so high last night that the exiting water headed parallel to the shoreline about half way up the beach – carving significant trenches and leaving a wealth of new organisms behind for sandpiper and crab entertainment. midnite dancing under the full moon wakened strange spirits.
