I'm a flatlander, from 'away' as the Mainers say. And even though I'll never be a native, I am beginning to feel like a true 'Local.' I've been asked for directions, where to get the best lobster, and what my favorite beach is. This is a secret, and I never really tell either of my top two choices!

As I begin my 5th summer living near the ocean, I reap huge pleasures in my expanding range of beach savy. Like knowing that a slight wind here at my place, 3 miles inland, means a stiff breeze off the ocean and 5 to 10 degrees cooler - so dress appropriately.

I love having figured out the perfect combos of clothing to layer for different weather days: silk long john shirt versus long sleeve cotton tee; v- neck light weight wool sweater or turtle neck; scarf and windbreaker, zippered fleece or both; and for another couple weeks anyways, my wool beret and leather gloves - at least to starting out. Just the right level of toastiness when walking in the beach wind gives me the same delight that crawling into my preheated bed on a cold night does!

By watching the sun descend towards the trees beyond the meadow behind my cottage, I know the exact moment to leave for the beach to catch the 'pink' hour each evening. That's the time when the angle of the sun paints the white cresting tops of the waves and the wet sand ethereal shades of mauve, salmon and rose. During these moments, when a soaring seagull tips its white belly and outspread wings into the light just right it transcends into a gold and brilliant creature, other wordly in midflight.

I've picked up some nuances of beach combing, too - like I no longer walk over to what I think is a sand dollar only to find that its really a perfect ring of seagull poop. And to keep a plastic grocery bag in my pocket to carry off the beach any trash, especially plastic - particularly prevalent on Mondays and after holidays. Also, that black sand is usually very soft, so its hard to walk in. And there's a certain size rock that when its left in the sand by the tide I know there's a better chance of finding sea glass amongst it.

Tidbits. Nuances. Garnered from repeated observations and continuous visits. Watching the same scenery walk through its subtle changes, the same backdrop with a different palette every moment. I absorb it, crave it, relish it, draw solace from it. And I am so much richer for having watched close enough to receive these gifts!