Yesterday we drove out to Drake’s Beach, on the Point Reyes Peninsula, and the sand sculpture contest that is an annual event there on Labor Day week-end. It was overcast and a little dreary, as things tend to be out here at this time of year. But the parking lot was full, and the beach was bustling in a way that combined the paraphernalia of family outings – coolers, blankets, folding chairs – with the milling chatter of a gallery opening.
I had expected kids making sand castles with plastic shovels and buckets. Instead there were adults with sculpture tools and brushes, hunched over their work with the passionate intensity of kids. (The first time I wrote that sentence I said ”real artists” instead of “adults,” but what are they?) Some of the work was amazing. Elephants, alligators and hippos peeked from the sand as from slow rivers. Mice from the Wind in the Willowsmunched on cheese, next to a baited trap. Two feet, exquisite in detail, guarded the entrance to a walled human head.