froggy day

Beth and I have both gushed recently about the glory that is October in San Diego. The weather is still generally summery in disposition, and the weekend days are still best spent at the beach. And the beach? The beach is beyond awesome. Plenty of parking, plenty of space to spread out, and lifeguards - although sparse - are still on duty to watch that your kids don't drown while you sip margaritas keep the swimmers safe.

With all of this in mind, we slathered and packed up for a day at the beach this weekend on a beautifully steamy day. We brought our sasquatch along for kicks and giggles, and headed down to dog beach.

We live about 10 miles inland from the ocean, which is hardly more than a fart in the breeze. But on certain days when the climate is behaving in an extraordinarilly o-beach-ian manner, that 10 miles is akin to the difference between Jupiter and Mars. Between Almond Joy and Mounds. Between summer and winter.

We drove west out of the sunshine, and straight into the frog:

,

I can't remember which of my kids started calling the marine layer froggy, but it stuck

,

.

There were moments of clarity, but the haze was generally quite thick, and hung over everything like a damp towel

.

Ordinarily, there'd be a pier over there

Phew, it's still there. And look, a gang of chihuahas!

Adding to the surreal soup of the day was the extreme low tide; offering warm, shallow pools and lots of inviting mud

how could one not run and jump here?

So the slathering of sunscreen was probably for naught, and it was not quite the soaking up of the sun's rays that we had hoped for before we lapse into full winter beach mode, but it was pretty cool out there.

And some things, thankfully, do not change in the face of a changing climate:

As we headed east towards the sunshine and home, I looked back down Newport at the thick marine layer hugging our beach. It's like a line in the sky: