Aside from the Ocean, the obvious main ingredient of this long beach is sand. Unlike the mostly barnacle covered rocky beaches of the Puget Sound, near home, this beach is sandy, miles… of fine tan-grey colored sand. Depending on the tide there is about twenty to one hundred yards of beach from the edge of the grass-covered dunes to the changing ocean line. Here the ocean licks the sand, packing it into a high-speed surface, making for a smooth run near the edge. Or where as Sarrah preferred it, sand piled loosely by the wind, storms and high tides up against the dunes where the grass grows and waves like wheat fields; catching the blowing sand into thick, fluffy unstable drifts for jumping and plowing through.
Sand is magical; it brings out playfulness in a dog, youth in the old and delight in a kid. Sand does not care how careful you are, it will get into everything. These little bits of ancient rock ground in the waves, spread by the wind, over time will get between your toes and everywhere else. Sarrah loved it! She did her part to share it. It seemed no matter how well I wiped her feet, she somehow smuggled some in.