Seaside Jaunt

When I'm in the mood for a change of scenery from our 24th Street beach, I head south towards Corson's Inlet State Park at 59th and Central Avenue. You can visit it virtually at:

http://www.state.nj.us/dep/parksandforests/parks/corsons.html

If you haven't been, it is worth the trip. The white sands are bordered by grassy dunes, complete with a nature trail. We often sight dolphins jumping through the waves. During July and August, Ocean City leads beach walks in the morning and afternoon here. For $1 per person (and 50-cents for children), you are guided down the beach by a knowledgeable volunteer and he or she points out interesting finds, teaching about the local flora and fauna. Each child gets a beach bucket to help collect seaside treasures. Will especially loved our beach walk last year and we intend on going back again.

Since Corson's Inlet is a state park, it isn't part of the Ocean City beach system and does not have a life guard. It seems to be a popular destination for boating, surfing and fishing. However, our favorite activity at the Inlet is collecting seashells. It is the best beach for finding shells--sparkly jingle shells, curly whelks and, best of all, chunky clam shells, perfect for our made-up "seashell game" and for painting on rainy days.

My friend Suzette and her son were visiting Ocean City. Looking for a reason to get together with the kids, I suggested a trip to the Inlet to find seashells.

We equipped each child with his own plastic bag. But from there, the trip didn't go quite as imagined. I had pictured a happy walk down the shoreline. I'd expected to describe it later with words like "jaunt"" and "frolic." Suzette and I would share knowing smiles as the children amused us with their enthusiasm over their discoveries. The sounds of screeching gulls would be muffled by the giggles of happy children.

As we entered the beach, the children scampered down to the ocean, straight into the waters. The sea is rough here, and the ocean is unguarded, so we kept having to call them in. Now completely wet, they started digging. We weren't prepared for a full out beach day, so digging was done using hands instead of shovels.

Charlotte was not content to be an observer from her seat in the sling. She struggled to get down and I let her. Dressed in a beachy sundress, she soon was soaked from head to toe. After crawling in the sand, she was coated like a piece of Shake-and-Bake chicken. And, after trying to hold her, distract her, clean her, so was I.

"There usually are shells here," I explained to Suzette, "lots of them." She giggled and suggested that maybe we had visited the park right after a clam bake last time.

Soon, we were able to convince the boys to continue our walk down the beach. And eventually, we hit the shell mother load: hundreds of shells in all shapes and sizes. We must have just missed a seagull buffet, as we discovered clam shells probably only recently pried open, both top and bottom shells intact. Our bags were soon full of these treasures. (You'll read later of our many uses of these shells!)

We had driven down to the Inlet and tried to brush off as much sand as we could before driving off. Even my keys were coated. The car will never be the same. But I can't wait to do it again.