This weekend the moon pulled back the curtains on the beach, revealing plenty of sand in the evening hours. I love the beach in the winter, particularly near dusk. The sand seems to go on for miles; when there’s a full moon, it rises from behind the mountains, which are still rosy from alpenglow.
I think I understand how tidal extremes work, enough so that I can explain using a stick drawing in the sand. The moon and the Sun and the Earth fall into line (or close enough), giving a little extra tug on the tides. These higher highs and lower lows are called spring tides, ones that “spring forth” around the time of the new and full moons.
But I haven’t yet figured out why the beach seems to appear mostly in the evening in the wintertime, while it’s drowning in seawater near dawn. Continue reading



I need a new disease. Not for me, not exactly, but for my son. Instead of stories about two mystery solvers named Sam and Lydia, he wants me to regale him with chronicles of ailments, with tales of viruses and bacteria.

December 2 – 6