This, these dunes that sweep up from the beach and reach to the sky, these dunes with their towering oaks that cling to their sides. Oaks so tall and yet taller still the dune itself. In some places a hiker can step right off the dune and into the crown of a magnificent oak. A rare delight, that.
These dunes, with their oaks and their marram grass, their sweet, sweet marram grass with it’s deep and abiding roots reaching into the sand, imploring it to stay. Of course the sand stays, it stays to build these mighty dunes that shelter my home, protecting me and mine. They keep us from the blizzard’s blast. They keep us from the sudden violence of spring storms yet all the while these dunes are ameliorating summer’s heat and winter’s bite. These mighty giants shelter us from nature’s worst, the gales of November, that onslaught of the sea’s fury upon man. The gales, screaming through the trees like banshees, these dunes, our gentle giants hold us close and keep us safe.
These dunes teaming with life. Wild turkeys, sweet quail, songbirds keep to the low brush while sea gulls and bald eagles soar out and over the dunes. Soaring higher still are the migrating cranes with their alien wooden noise. Bedding for the night under the oaks, and stars are the deer, the coyotes, and, on rare days, the brown bear.
These dunes that protect me and my land, these dunes that hold so much life, these dunes warm my heart and fill my dreams. May nature play her myriad colors upon their face forever, playing out til the waters cease. Even then then may they play on, dancing in the dune grasses growing in our dreams.