Ponies and Fly

It's April 18, 2012. I sit alone in a condominium in Duck, North Carolina.

Duck is located on the upper shores of the Outer Banks. The Atlantic Ocean laps the seashore less than 1/8-mile to my east. The Currituck Sound calmly ripples some two miles, if that far, to my west.

I sit alone at a breakfast table. The table top is clear glass, about 1/4-inch thick. It has a rounded shape. Actually, it's a square with broadly rounded corners.

The glass stably balances on a sturdy, white wicker pedestal. The pedestal is more narrow at the bottom than the top. Four shapely ovals in the sides of the pedestal distinguish where to place chairs around the circular, squared table top. Four white wicker chairs with rounded backs and pale green cushioned seats match the table.

 I sit in one chair with my right foot resting in one of the pedestal ovals. I sit alone...facing one of the three windows that surround the breakfast nook.

 One chair sits empty to my left, pushed under the rounded table top;  it's front legs face the oval on that side of the pedestal.

 Another chair sits empty across from me on the other side of the glass table top.

 The fourth chair sits alone in the bedroom around the corner - my clothes that I've worn tossed across its pale green cushion.

I arrived at Duck this past Monday, April 16, around 4:00 AM after I'd driven alone over 5-1/2 hours. It was a beautiful night drive. The road before me during the last three hours was long and straight and empty. There were no street lights. My moon roof open on my '99 Explorer, I could look up and see the stars in the darkness.

When I arrived, the guard for the condominiums was fast asleep as he sat upright in his chair in the guard house, his head leaning back bobbing a bit to his right, his mouth agape, snoring. I hated to wake him, but I needed to get into the gate. Tap, tap, tap. My fist gently sounded on the large glass window in the door. He awoke with a start.

By the time I got my luggage and groceries moved in, it was 5:15 AM. The sun would rise at 6:27 AM.



Carol, you might as well stay up and catch the sunrise.

It was a beautiful sunrise. The night slipped away into the day as it has for millions of years, I guess. A big ball of fire overlooked the Atlantic.
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I am not completely alone in the condominium. A fly has been a resident since I arrived.

Today I left around 2:00 in the afternoon and returned around 6:30 in the evening. My fly friend was here when I left, but I haven't seen him, or maybe it's a her, since I've returned. I hope he hasn't died or flown the condo; I'd miss him...or her.

I had no plans today when I left at 2:00, except to exchange the bicycle I'd rented Monday. Only two of it's three gears were working. Yet even with just two gears, I had a great 25-mile bike ride Monday. I have rented the bike for the week.

Once I'd exchanged the bike, I climbed back into my '99 Explorer and took out my complimentary, colorful Outer Banks map.

Do I go north or south today? I asked my map.

My map displays wild ponies to the north.

North it is.

Once north, I spent a couple hours four-wheeling while a local named Jake drove the four-wheel drive touring truck; I was his co-pilot. I learned about local life - its history and into the present including about the wells, the septic tanks, the schools.

North Carolina Highway 12 in this northern most part of the North Carolina Outer Banks becomes the beach, literally. The beach is the highway; there is no paved roadway. There is no "roadway" at all, except for the beach. When the tide is at its highest, this section of Highway 12 becomes impassable. It is the only way to drive to Carova where some families live year round. Elementary-age kids ride boats to get to school; their school is located on Knotts Island. The county even provides garbage pick-up among these houses in the dunes.

We drove north along NC Highway 12, which is literally a beach, before turning west on the sand roadways to go into the midst of the small dunes. Four-wheel drives are mandatory. Among the dunes are houses, built on stilts - houses that cost in the millions. Most have sand yards with bits of scrubbage and grass where the wild ponies, which are protected, graze. The largest house has 23 bedrooms.

There is an island for sale near here. The island comes complete with home and dock and luxury. I think it is located in the Currituck Sound. The cost? 6.4 million, at the moment.

On the tour today, us tourists saw eighteen ponies; eight were strolling the beach.

Locals say the ponies rule here.

It was a good day. I hope the fly had a good day in the condo.