After a morning spent prodding hermit crabs and counting lizards we decide to move camp. State parks are expensive for overnight lodging and it is fee free week for national parks. At the entrance for the Gulf Shore National Park we check in. The attendant informs us that the van can not accompany us for the night.
"It's primitive camping," he explains with a gleam in his eye, "make sure to bring a shovel." He laughs at his joke as we prepare to lug our camp gear over a mile-without the benefit of the van. Our site is on sugary sand twenty yards from the cresting waves. It is the in between time when the tide is neither high nor low. The wind blows fiercely. It takes us nearly an hour to set the tent up- a task normally accomplished in five minutes. Just when we think it is perfectly secure, a gust blows it end over end down the beach. We finally prevail. The wind quiets and the sun sets. The sky is beautiful. It never gets really dark on the beach at night. The pure white of the sand reflects the moonbeams reassuringly. We are the only ones here. As the waves gently hit the shore our day is done.
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