Orange Beach. Where or when I first heard of this beach I don't remember. Its soft white sand certainly lived up to my expectations. I still haven't come up with a metaphor to describe what walking in this sand was like.
Bud in his new beach footwear standing in the surf. The water was still chilly but that didn't stop people from going in as those young women in the background were doing - trying to surf on their little boards.
And while Bud wore his sandals on the beach and I carried my shoes, as we left I noticed many trusting souls just left their footwear on the boardwalk before going down onto the beach. Next time I'll know how to act like a local.
I wonder what it would be like to stay for a week or two at one of these condos. Every day could be life at the beach.
It was hard to believe how white the sand was, not only on the beaches but in the dunes all along the highway. When I asked a woman at an information rest stop, she did not know. Googling it said that the white sand beaches came from quartz grains washed down from the Appalachian Mountains thousands of years ago. That was one heck of a lot of quartz!
Oh, oh. Looking ahead I can see another one of 'those' bridges coming up. By this time crossing bridges was hardly even bothering me. Maybe having that 'talking to' myself before leaving home actually worked!
A view of more of that white sand from the bridge as we crossed. I learned that I could take fairly decent pictures even as we were zooming along the highway.
A view of Gulf Islands National Seashore. After we were back home, granddaughter Deise asked if we had gone to Santa Rosa Beach. She had been there and described it as the most beautiful place. Had I remembered which beach she had been to I would have made it a point to see that one. As it was, we did drive past it. Too many beaches, so little time, but all of them gorgeous.
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