March 21, 2007

It was November and a windy storm was blowing in from the Atlantic. We were staying on a narrow spit of land, essentially a barrier island, between the ocean and the sound. No snow in Southeastern Virginia in November, but we are just a few feet from the fickle North Atlantic. The sand is blowing sideways, like a white-out in winter. Stakes were useless as we set up our tents. We had to half bury them in sand and load them with gear to keep from blowing away. Cars buzzed by on the beach--this serves as an informal road from Sandbridge, Va., to points south in North Carolina. We were given reflectors to mark our tents. There was just a tiny bit of light left when an apparition emerged from the storm. A child in Cub Scout gear wandered into camp. He had been separated from his group. He stayed with us until we flagged down a ranger on the beach/road. All this comes to mind after hearing the story of the missing scout in western North Carolina.