By Kathy Hart 



There's nothing like fall at the of a friend, warding off the cooler Higher on the beach, I catch a pair 



of black eyes peering just over the top 

 of a golf-ball sized hole. It's a ghost 

 crab, so-called because its sand-colored 

 body makes it capable of vanishing 

 before your eyes like a ghost. The 

 crab's eyes sit like periscopes above its 

 head. The crafty crustacean decides to 

 run for it, scuttling along sideways on 

 its tiptoes to a hole nearby. 



As I cast my eyes seaward, I see a 

 flock of pelicans, one behind the other 

 in a straight line skimming just above 

 the wave tops. One falls out of the 

 formation to rise, then dive beakfirst 

 into the sea for a possible catch of 

 menhaden or mullet. 



The sky is always bluer in the fall. 

 The northeast breezes push away the 



16 SEPTEMBER/OCTOBER 1996 



beach. It's my favorite time of the year 

 there. 



The hordes of tourists have packed 

 their beachbags and gone home. It's 

 more quiet, less frantic with the activity 

 of people. 



The sand, no longer baked by 90- 

 degree temperatures, warms my toes 

 instead of scorching them. The winds 

 blow cooler and with more vigor. I take 

 refuge in the ocean, which still holds its 

 summer warmth. I alternatively swim 

 and float in the warm ocean swells. 



The sun's heat is now a welcome 

 source of warmth as I lie on my beach 

 towel after my swim. In the summer, 

 the heat is annoyance — an element to 

 contend with — but in the fall it's more 



breezes. 



Now that the summer tourists have 

 gone, the beach belongs again to the 

 ghost crabs, gulls, terns and sander- 

 lings. On days when the fish are 

 running, recreational anglers line the 

 beach and nearby piers casting for fall 

 catches of mackerel, gray trout or 

 bluefish. 



I bask in the sun's warmth and 

 watch the sanderlings play tag with the 

 breaking waves. They run away from 

 incoming waves, then chase the 

 backwash seaward as they probe the 

 soft sand for mole crabs. If they make a 

 dinner catch, they quickly run from 

 their fellow sanderlings in an attempt to 

 keep their meal to themselves. 



M li l lU MMMB 



1 



