They live in clusters atop the dunes and stretch westward towards the sun. They dance in rhythm to the music of the breezes throughout the day and night. They are sea oats, creatures of the beach. They build the dunes and guard the shores.
The stately grasses are tough. They can sink their roots in fragile sand and survive the big blows out of the northeast and the driving gales of hurricanes. They don’t need fertilizer or trimming, weeding or nurture. Their roots hold and retain moisture from the sea. All they need is for humans to leave them alone.
Sea oat colonies begin their lives as small seeds, and Lord knows, there are lots of sea oat seeds. That’s about all they do – produce seeds, though most don’t survive. But a few, thankfully, take root along their taller kin and grow to three feet or more in tight clusters. And they dance together, swaying, bobbing, sometimes rocking as if they were in the front row of an Elton John concert.
Sea oats are tough little fellows, but not indestructible. They don’t like people walking on their spindly stalks, nor the crush from the treads of Jeep or truck tires, nor do they appreciate bulldozers that shove them aside so people can have better views of the surf. They protect us if we protect them. All they ask is a little space and privacy so they can dance in the breezes forever.