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The clouds were thick beneath the plane for most our flight home from Boston yet that didn’t stop me from staring out the window for the entire trip. It’s one of the methods I use to combat my fear of flying. So long as I can see the ground, or at least what’s beneath us, I’m somewhat okay.
The white puffs were low in the sky and most of my window was filled was an ebullient blue when, about forty minutes into our trip, the clouds began to wisp beneath us. We were over the Atlantic Ocean, not too far from the shore, and soon I could make out little subdivisions that dotted the green coast of New Jersey. The densely populated areas were clustered tight together with thick forest or farmland separating each town from their nearest neighbor.
Beaches began to jut out from the mainland and I noticed a thin white line of shorebreak, constant at the edge of the sand. Inlets and rivers forced their way into the dark earth and state preserves like Island Beach State Park came into focus as, suddenly, the seaside development would disappear. About halfway down the coast, I saw the barrier island with which I am most familiar.
Long Beach Island is exactly what its name would imply. It’s eighteen contiguous miles of beach, a half mile wide at its thickest, one-fifth of a mile at its narrowest. Home to about roughly twenty thousand year-round residents and known colloquially as “The Island,” LBI is a favorite for regional summertime vacationers whom the locals deride as “bennies” or “shoobies."
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