Cape Scapes - Something Different

Wednesday was departure day, in our quest for some soul-satisfying, seaside solitude. With the Cape still in season for a few more days, we packed our well-worn beach gear and settled for an unusual spot on the Swan River. Crowds have already thinned considerably. By Monday, "serenity" shall be redefined. 
We love salt air, and...

Our new digs in Dennis have opened our eyes once again to the endless variety that Cape Cod possesses... same place - different vacation. Though we're still searching for our cousins :-), we'd gotten into an off-road habit that kept us from other magnificent beaches. And, those "cutesy" seals have now grown in number to an estimated fifteen thousand. The water is gross, where they hover. (Use your imagination, here.) Great whites have become a danger and many beaches are closed to swimming. Just last week, a visitor captured Jaws devouring a seal carcass, close to shore. It is imperative to find safe waters, if one intends to actually swim.

It is so important to respect the dunes... they are threatened. 
It is said that the Cape's topography shall undergo radical changes in the next century. 

We'd visited the impressive National Seashore's Marconi Beach (link) two years ago, during a fall retreat here. 
Its incredible Stairway To The Sea attracts many, for photo ops. It was yesterday's destination. 

The lifeguard-protected area is ample, and it's where beach-goers are mostly concentrated... it was nice to see people in the water! Walk a couple hundred feet in either direction for solitude. It's fun to glance back at what seem like a few ants in the sand and surf. The sand is delicious, making for easy trekking. The water is Cape-cold; wetsuits abound. Joe braved it, ever so briefly. We just spotted one seal, off in a distance. 

Thankfully, we saw no fins.

It was especially fun to watch a surfer dude teach a bunch of young-uns to ride. We witnessed one very little girl, all bleachy-beachy blonde, experiencing her first successful launch. Dude was in the water, lending lots of moral support to his students. Maybe in my next life?

As the sun set, we returned to our cottage, where we witnessed the moon rising over the river. 
We dined by its light, exhausted and contented.