I'm in North Carolina. I went out to Cape Hatteras earlier today, and saw a bunch of people out there surfing. I should have walked out there (about a mile from the car) with my board in hand, rather than leaving it in the car.
Last night I wrote this:
To go from the city into the south is a shock to me, almost. Because the south is so unexpected. I did not drive far, I did not but cross one state line, yet here I am. It is like taking a turn down an unfamiliar road and finding yourself in a totally different place. The weather looks and smells just like Bellingham, but it is warm. The fields and landscape is like the Skagit Valley, but there are not mountians, and the sea lapps eagerly a mere six inches below the lay of the land. I haven't reached the Outer Banks yet, so there are no dunes. I've found a small nook to camp in tonight, but right now I am in a resteraunt down the road, eating, waiting for it to get darker, and getting a taste of the south. I didn't realize, until I pulled into the parking lot, where, the trucks lined up side by side, and walking in, when I was greeted with the drawl that caught me off guard, where I was.
Tomorrow I'll go into South Carolina, and stay with a friend in Boiling Springs, and then tuesday I'll head down to Florida