Uncovered

 

As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, where I live in Jacksonville Beach is right near the beach. When you go out our front door, if you turn left and walk for about 1 minute, you'll be right at the beach. Growing up mostly in Georgia, with a couple years in New Jersey and South Carolina, the most water near me was in lakes, so being so close to the beach is amazing.

Walking outside and sometimes being able to smell the salty air is something special. In fact, in exactly one window in our house, if you get on your tip-toes, tilt your head, and get just the right angle, you can see a sliver of the beach. Clearly that beach view wouldn't exactly be a selling point of the house.

When you reach the beach, we have a wooden crossing bridge. I love it because it's sloped on a hill where you walk forward and then can peer over the top and then see the sand and the waves.

I've crossed it hundreds of times at this point, and I would say I know the way quite well by now. I know what the bridge looks like, I know what the sand feels like, and I know what the waves and the birds sound like.

In my several years of crossing this bridge, it has always been a straight shot. It's completely straight, one end on 1st street and 1 end in the sand.

Apparently that's not true. In the most recent hurricane, the dunes were eroded, revealing an entire portion of the bridge that I didn't know was there. I was astounded. It had been there the whole time, yet remained covered for years, invisible to those walking on it and around us.

It made me curious, looking around and wondering what else remained just below the surface, there but unseen. I looked around the beach asking that very question. Usually when I see the regular locals sweeping along the beach with metal detectors searching for lost treasure, I roll my eyes imagining it's a waste of time. Maybe it is, but at the same time, you never know what's there but too covered to see.