Nothing But Nature... and footprints

Yesterday afternoon was devoted to the art of fishing, not for me, mind you but for Carl. Although to be perfectly honest, you have to actually catch some fish in order for it to be called fishing. I walked the beach looking for stuff, stuff to take photos of, stuff to fill my attention span and stuff to pick up and throw away later. I took a photo or two of all the human trash I picked up in just a one hundred yard section.  I vowed to come back today with a plastic bag to collect more. I had my hands full of camera, Crocs, sun umbrella and barn boots which were supposed to keep my feet dry while walking along the surf line. All it took, though, was one large wake wave to swamp those babies and then it was boots off for the rest of my walk.  If we sat very still, the plovers and sand pipers would come within 20 feet of us. Of course the minute one of us would move, they were off. By the end of the day, Carl had one striped bass in his bag. Today, we were off to another Wal-Mart for a proper pair of needle nose pliers to remove hooks and a filet knife, well to filet the fish of course. I stayed at the camper to listen to the Red Sox get beat by the Texas Rangers and Carl went fishing again. I caught up with him later, without the boots, umbrella and Crocs today. I did remember the plastic bag to collect trash and had no trouble filling it. I will be so happy on the day I can walk a beach and only find marine debris like bits of shells, seaweed and surf washed rocks. Human footprints are also acceptable.