Beachcomber

Oil platforms rise out of the ocean like futuristic islands in a dystopian sci-fi movie. I can’t help but think it is, in fact, somewhat dystopian, future, or not. What a way to mess up a magnificent view.

I wouldn’t call myself an environmental crusader, but I don’t like these platforms. I never have. They seem bad to me, though the gas I put in my car may well have started under one of those monstrosities. It's better not to think about that too much. I would rather just dislike them without overanalyzing things.

Despite the oil rigs, I like to walk the beach each morning while the sun is coming up. It would be better with a clear horizon, but I still manage to find a little peace. The bright orange of the sky on fire gets me every time. It couldn't look any more different from the powder blue of midnight. Sipping my coffee, I stroll barefoot through the sand, stopping every few yards to turn and gaze at that glowing ball rising from its slumber.

Depending on what angle I’m looking from, as many as six are in my line of vision at any one time. It's hard to ignore them, try as I may. It might be better if they had drilled a little further from the shore. In reality, it wouldn’t be better, but at least I wouldn’t get so agitated about it when I’m trying to enjoy a stroll and some coffee.

My consolation is in thinking if we ever do manage to switch to green energy, some guy like me, somewhere, is going to be taking a little nature walk and have his view ruined by a bunch of those giant, ugly windmills they put up nowadays. Windmill farms, they call them. If they looked more like the old wooden ones, brightly painted and surrounded by tulips, it wouldn’t be so bad. That’s not how they make them, though. Those things are plain, and white, with three enormous blades that plod around in a circle.

Have you ever seen trucks hauling one of those blades? I have. It takes a double-long trailer to carry one of them. Nothing quaint, or picturesque, about them. This isn’t Holland and no one cares. If they did care, at least they could use the Dutch windmills as some sort of template, but there’s no equivalent in the world of oil platforms. Nope. They're are wretched, metallic hulks. That’s all they’ve ever been.

You might wonder why I bother coming down here every summer if I hate the view so much. That’s a fair question. First of all, it’s the shortest distance I can travel to the ocean. Secondly, the fact those oil rigs are out there means a lot of other people don’t want to come down here. Not only does that mean fewer people, which suits me fine, but it keeps the prices down on beach houses.

The little place where I stay is a block away from the beach. The owners call it a bungalow, but that’s not what I would call it. It’s a trailer. I don’t call them out on it. They're nice enough folks and I don’t want any problems. They can call it whatever they want, as long as they don’t jack the price up too much.