Benton Harbor Beach

St. Joseph and Benton Harbor appear to be twin cities. Either way, I believe I’ve used “the Beaches of Benton Harbor” before, and I must have my alliteration!

Yesterday was a good day. We left the west of Detroit and didn’t have long before we hit our booked hotel in Benton Harbor. After meeting up with my mother-in-law and her husband, who were following on behind, we headed out to dinner and then a jaunt at St. Joseph’s beach park. The sand is really quite good, and some enterprising soul seemed to have brought a big shovel to the beach hours before, for they had created four great big craters in the beach sand. Maybe they were digging for treasure, I don’t know, but these craters were, of course, kid magnets.

We like to dig when we get to the beach. My theory is that it’s because we can. It’s our best hope to reach China with only plastic shovels. You could never envision doing something similar with coarse topsoil.

I built my own sandcastle closer to the shore, and pleased myself by being able to dig below the water line. Indeed, I created a growing sinkhole that I had to collapse less somebody come along and get their foot trapped.

One alarming moment came at supper, where the restaurant’s ceiling fans created a flickering light that made Erin woozy. Switching seats helped. The alarming part, however, is how Nora was affected by the same light. Like mother, like daughter. The poor girl went quite pale. We took her out of the restaurant, though, and she perked right up. So, now we know, and we’re armed for the future.

Further photos of our day can be found here.

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