Familiar roads, unfamiliar sights...
This is Rover. Denise said that she wants to play with words too, so this journal is written by both of us. If you see slanty words, they are my words. Denise tells me that the proper name for the kind of type I am using is italic, but I think slanty is much more descriptve. Anyway, if you see slanty words, they are mine!
I was relaxing in the back with the cameras when it felt like our two-wheeled steed had stopped rolling. It was way too early for a rest stop, so I popped up and looked forward to see if I could figure out what Denise was up to. Oh. There was a parade of big birds and their babies prancing down the road. I think they were turkeys! Denise stopped the bike and started walking. The birds were in the middle of the lane, and she didn't want to startle them. I think they heard us though, because they started walking faster. I wouldn't call it running; maybe they were doing their own form of race-walking. They raced down the road, then found a spot to climb up a hill and escape into the woods.
No photos, just mind pictures.
Heading north, heading east, heading to the ocean...
As I got closer to the coast I could feel a change. The wind kicked up, blowing in my face (of course!). The air felt cooler. Nice.
The coast jumped out in front of me in Salisbury, MA. A left turn sent me through a bit of coastal Massachusetts and on into New Hampshire. Through Seabrook, up the slope of the bridge into Hampton Beach. Hey - the bridge is up. This one isn't a lift bridge, the center section tilts up. Ah, that's a good excuse for a rest, isn't it? I really did need to wait for the bridge to become a solid surface again.
Did you know that Denise barks at dogs? As we were rolling through Hampton Beach a car passed us with a very cute little dog hanging out of the window. He thought we were a good bark target. Denise smiled, and said 'bark bark dog, bark, bark!'. I didn't bark, and I'm a little dog too. Funny thing is, sometimes when Denise barks at them, the real dogs stop barkng!
I could hear the sound of the ocean, of waves rolling in to the shore. The air smelled of salt, a clean ocean odor. Look to the right, watch the water.
I passed the home of the mute swans, and there was a pair of these beautiful birds paddling across the pond. They were too far away to capture with my camera, but the vision still makes a good memory. You can see some photos of them from last year in my Mute swans roaming gallery.
There were people standing watching the ocean, sitting on the rocks, walking, everyone soaking in the sight of that big water. I was moving, but I stopped often. I stood and watched the water too.
And then... the New Hampshire Atlantic coastline came to an end. The road turned inland, now following the Piscataqua River into Portsmouth. Ah, the end of the road for today, home for the night.
