...And just a Smidge More Solitude

I love people. I like crowds like the 84,200-some-odd at the Auburn-Vanderbilt game I attended today. I maintain a healthy e-mail correspondence, have an abundance of friends, and usually strike up a conversation with the stranger in front of me in line. But I also love solitude-that pulling away by myself (or more often, with my husband) to experience a few moments of quiet reflection.

Last time, I promised another place at the beach where I go in search of solitude; a place to go for something different that's also away from the madding crowds. Here it is.

A few years back, the Pensacola area got two direct hits from hurricanes in the same season. Bridges were wiped out, roads disappeared, and a large section of beach was inaccessible for a long time. I visited Pensacola Beach not long afterward and was unable to get back to the mainland on the usual route, which went through Navarre Beach. (They say there are nude beaches there, and someone must believe it, because there are signs every few yards in one area declaring that nudity on the beach is prohibited. Of course, that has nothing to do with why I wanted to go there.) Chalk it up to a writer's curiosity about what lay beyond those piled-up mountains of sand the last time I was there. Anyway, I tried it again recently, and was entranced by what I found.

Pensacola Beach is an overdeveloped, once-decaying area that seems to be making a comeback. Driving through the area, one is reminded of the beach towns of the late sixties and early seventies-garish architecture, crowded little buildings with no thought of aesthetics. How many people can you crowd into a postage-stamp-sized lot? Many more if you don't bother with landscaping and all those other nonessentials. That seems to be changing, though. There seems to be a lot of re-development going on, and I would happily return there.

It's not what I found there that so captivated me, though. It's what I found beyond Pensacola Beach. Drive through the overcrowded commercial area, and you find yourself on a highway that runs right down the middle of an undeveloped area. Actually, there's not enough land there to develop. On your left is Pensacola Bay. On your right is the Gulf of Mexico. And in the middle-just you, your companion, and a narrow highway laid on top of tons and tons of white sand.

Go To Page: 1 2

Articles in this Topic    Discussions in this Topic