Watermelon. Key lime. Tangerine. Lemon. Cranberry.
These were just a few of the whimsical house colors that lined the beach and road opposite us a we rode our bikes daily along the street running alongside the ocean in Emerald Isle, NC.
Mid-20th century bungalows are situated next to statelier, multi-level clapboards, all overloaded with balconies and scattered widow walks overlooking the Atlantic and the Bogue Sound. Some had amusing names like “Vitamin SEA” and “R&R” and “Mermaid’s Cove”, others marked with fluttering flags, scrubby gardens, gates open and closed. A stately white home with black trim stands tall above the rest looking more like it belongs on a New Orleans boulevard than in a sleepy beach town.
It amazes and impresses us the non-motorized traffic along this road each morning. There are thicker, thinner, high school, middle aged runners, dog walkers, a family biking, then another, multi-generational families walking, several groups loaded with gear crossing to the beach already, fishermen returning from shoreline solitude.
It is wonderful to see so many people outside, getting some exercise, being together or releasing stress before hitting the beach, the store, the mini-golf, the arcades, the boats. Maybe work? If only everyday could be like this.
Slate. Sand. Forest green. Twilight. Snow. C