This time of year the beach is deserted. We were there for only a little while - maybe fifteen minutes - and we only saw two other people ... and one dog.
It was low tide, and the seagulls were huddled on the solid sand below the tide line. Ordinarily, the presence of humans sends them into a frenzy of hoping for some fried handout ... or waiting to see if we're stupid enough to leave our pizza unguarded (the answer is, yes, we have been).
This day, after an overnight winter storm dumped three more inches of snow, followed by a half inch of ice with a promised rain event later in the day, they had no interest in us.
Or, probably, this time of year, they know they aren't as likely to get human food. The locals aren't as generous as the tourists.
The Boardwalk was deserted and what is a carnival atmosphere of lights and noise from April to October was quiet ... almost eerie.
I almost commented to Little Fire Faery, as we walked back to our car, this is what it will be like if the world ever does implode as is being predicted.
Here, it will be deserted and silent - the remains of a different time rusting in the salty air.