Quicksand

Ocean Gate is a coastal town in central New Jersey wedged between the Toms River and the rustic pine barrens. It is known for its long neighborhood boardwalk that twists around shallow beaches, fishing piers, and shell-colored houses. When you look out at the water, you can watch double-decker yachts and catamarans pass each other by. The famous Thomas A. Mathis bridge leading to Seaside Heights looms in the distance. Because of its unprecedented beauty, Ocean Gate is where every county local goes to unwind.

I remember taking a stroll on the Ocean Gate boardwalk with my parents a little over a month ago, June 9th. It was one of the first warm evenings of summer, and several people were outside. Because of the low case rate of COVID-19 in Ocean County and ability to stay over six feet away from walking pedestrians, few people wore masks. I kept mine in my pocket just in case, but for the first time in months, I felt comfortable not wearing one.

Time seemed to slow as the pinks and oranges of the overhead sunset intensified, and for a few minutes, I felt a sense of normalcy. Kids built sandcastles on the shoreline. Families barbecued hot dogs on their backyard grills, and couples stretched themselves across beach towels, holding hands as they watched the sky glow. It was the kind of beauty you find in paintings and poems. I felt transported back to 2019...until my mother jumped.

"Ew!" she shrieked, "what's that?"

She pointed down at a crumbling statue seemingly buried beneath the sand. At first glance, I thought it was a corpse. The inanimate man almost blended in with the stretch of desert he was buried under. The missing fingers and frightening expression gave him something of a zombified look. He was struggling to pull himself out of the ground, looking up at the sky as he toiled. To top it all off, someone had strapped a mint green mask around his head.

It was one of those grotesque yet thought-provoking sights I couldn't turn my eyes away from. He was buried next to a rather well-known house in Ocean Gate. The family who lives inside is known for their creative, interactive antics. Before the masked man, they left a large "Boardwalk Jenga" tower game for passersby to pull from. Additionally, they are skilled in the art of sidewalk chalk. Perhaps this new masked man wasn't just something cool to look at, but a statement.

Quickly, I took a picture with my Iphone camera and plugged the raw photo into VSCO for editing. (Go ahead, call me a VSCO girl!) With some contrast and saturation to add color to the sky, the photo looked less washed-out...and a lot less "dead."

I was so moved by the sight, I decided to post the picture on Instagram to know my friends' thoughts on the poor soul sinking into the sand. Because I couldn't think of a good one on my own, I asked my followers to caption the photo. Here's what they came up with...

And my favorite caption from my good friend, Hannah...

A professional photographer friend of mine even messaged me about the masked man. After telling him about my boardwalk discovery, he is now planning on driving down to Ocean Gate from north Jersey to snap better shots of the iconic art piece.

When I look at the masked man clawing his way out from underneath the sand, thoughts of the pandemic's swift beginning come to mind. It's hard to believe we're halfway through 2020. The beginning of this year was terrifying. Granted, this year is still immensely terrifying. But every day, life gets a little easier to navigate. We've built new routines around mask-wearing, washing hands, and social distancing. Perhaps we're still stuck in the sand, but our eyes remain focused on the sunset above. At least our heads are above the sand now. So long as we keep pushing forward, we'll stop sinking.

My roommate, Molly, has a different interpretation of the masked man. "I see it as a warning," she says, "it's the danger that awaits those who are missing the point." By that, she's referring to those who choose to neglect social distancing and mask-wearing. The quicksand is their fate. The luxuries they long to keep will be rapidly taken away from them. While I see this photo as half-full, Molly sees it as half-empty. To the beholder, the masked man is either sinking or pulling himself up. It's an outdoor shot, but it captures a struggle we all feel inside.

So I ask, dear reader...what do you see?

___________________________________________________

If you'd like to let me know your thoughts or leave your own caption for this photo, you can do so on Instagram or DM me @katyisaladybug. Thanks for reading. :)

-Katy