When I awoke this morning in the midst of my vacation, we were stopping to stretch out our legs. I found sandy shores with thundering waves and oh mama had I ever come home.
I’ve heard of sons of beaches before but never knew the meaning until now. The surfers, joggers, beachcombers and dog walkers are all family here, they’re all sons of beaches. Now that I’ve met this great mother I understand why it’s so reknowned. It’s great fun and spans a vast area of the globe, appearing to be literally hundreds of yards long.
Barring a need to leave the entertainment would have been endless. I picked up my first seashell and poked around in the sand. I found sticks and even crab shells to jab with the sticks. So much novelty all around me.
Then came the tide. I walked out to the water’s edge but it teased me by rolling back. Naturally I followed and the water came after me in waves forcing a hasty retreat. We repeated this game for a good while running forward and being chased back. So playful is this ocean!
I wish more people could see a beach. It would be great if there were oceans around the world touching every continent but, come on, the earth would have to be like two-thirds water for that to happen. Very unrealistic indeed.
Finally we had to make like the Red Sea and part with a great amount of dry land in-between us. It’s not sad though, before going I loaded up my shoes and hair with enough sand to keep the memory fresh for many weeks to come no matter how much shaking and scrubbing I may do. What’s a tad more uncomfortable is the pearls I’m trying to harvest in my uh-oh area, but it’s a small price to pay for such treasures.
In the picture above you can see the context of my joy. In the picture half-way up the page you can see what appears to be a swamp-man emerging from the surf. He’s actually a surfer, they’re slightly less dangerous and smelly.