The day was a bit cloudy but it wasn’t going to stop us. We paid our beach fee (a sore point for someone that enjoyed free beaches in New Zealand – but it was a nice beach and right outside of our hotel so in the end a small price to pay) and set up camp between the surfers and swimmers.
First on the agenda: building a sand castle. My uncle and I plotted a spot and then started to dig, 5 minutes into what was surely to be our masterpiece we changed directions and decided to test our skills with a sand turtle instead (the lack of building utensils may have been a big part of our switch). People on the beach were beginning to admire what we were working on, a crowd was forming (actually it was just my sister offering her critique of the dimensions of said turtle) and soon we had a nearly life-like specimen. Or at least we thought we did pretty well.
We sank back into our chairs and within five minutes a small, seemingly innocent boy of about 6 came over to admire the work. I don’t think he realized he was standing within 20 feet of the creators because he bent down to inspect it a bit further. He carefully started appraising the turtle from several angles before plucking out the seashells that had been placed as eyes. Ok, maybe he doesn’t think the eyes were well placed. We weren’t really sure where they went when we created it anyway. But, he had our attention.

Next to go were the back flippers and then a nearby stick became a new tool of destruction and the turtle’s shell was turned into a mixing bowl for what he must have imagined was now turtle soup. As the piece de resistance he threw a crab shell that was also within reach into the concoction and gave another callous stir with the stick. When that was finished he tossed the stick in and strutted away (yes, there was definitely a swagger in his step).
An hour of building and 15 minutes of destruction. It’s great how much fun can be had with just some sand.
Next Up: Block Island, Visiting friends, and Dinner on the pier in Boston
Hi Jessica,
ReplyDeleteThere is no way you should know this, but as a native Rhode Islander I feel it is my duty to tell you it is not cohogs, but quahogs. Yes we RI people do speak funny! Love, Aunt Cheryl
Thank you!! The correction has been made. :)
ReplyDelete