Welcome To The Beach

We are finally taking the first week-long family vacation in 13 years. We are going to the beach. Now I can make that bathing suit character-building experience worthwhile.

We got here around 6 pm. From 5 pm onwards, every 2 miles, Sam said, "Are we at the beach yet? I love the beach, I can't wait to get to the beach, IS THAT THE BEACH??????" (pointing to a lake/creek/retention pond). We got to the causeway, the lone sign of civilization in a very flat, plain marsh, and excitedly told Sam, "Look! Just on the other side of those trees is the beach!" We didn't realize it was another 20 miles. So we shot ourselves in the foot. And then the storm broke over us. It was like a tropical depression just *whap* landed on us, with high winds, horizontal rain, and so forth. We started to wonder a) if we'd ever get there and b) if we did, would the beach be completely gone when we did. So we finally pulled up to the beach house. I got out, opened my umbrella, and watched it instantly turn inside out in the gale force winds. I grabbed a kid and hustled whoever it was up the steps and on the porch, trusting that SM would get the other child. And we entered nirvana.

You're hot and sticky and your bum is numb from a 3-hour drive (complete with two wrong turns that take you into Neverland). You are tired, your eyes itch, it's 96 degrees outside, you have a 3-yak train worth of stuff in the car trunk that needs to be hauled up 48 steps, and the second you get out of the car both kids start jumping up and down and begging to leave everything in the car and go out onto the beach RIGHT NOW. Your glasses fogged up a long time ago and you realize that whimpering sound you hear is coming from you. So you haul your tired, self-pitying self up the stairs and walk into...AIR CONDITIONING. That's the first glorious surprise. We're staying with my sister and her family, as well as my parents. They'd gotten here ahead of us and not only turned on the air, but also gotten dinner started and put out the toilet paper. What else could a vacationer want? So we stumbled into the lovely, spacious, cool house almost weeping with gratitude.

The wind and rain continued to howl and beat the house outside, but inside we were cozy and dehumidifying with ease, putting our clothes and toiletries away, making up the beds, and helping with dinner. After we ate and cleaned up, the kids could take it no longer and threatened to self-destruct if we did not take them out onto a beach, any beach, this second. So out came the watershoes, and off we went. Sam skipped joyfully ahead, unable to contain his excitement. Sophie was long gone with her cousins and my parents. Sam's been to the beach only once before, last year, so he had quite a treat coming, and he knew it. This was like Christmas for him. We crested the dune's boardwalk and beheld Sam streaking towards the water like a roadrunner, screaming his fool head off and laughing maniacally. Showing no fear, he flung himself into the water, lost his footing, and went face down. He bounced up, shook himself like a dog, ran from the waves, turned around, and went straight back in again. He did this for about an hour without stopping, and we kept having to stop him from going out too far. Seems we have a surfer dude in the family! Sophie skipped around the waves and went hunting for seashells with her cousins. The boardwalk we used comes out between two jetties that are pretty close together, so we went trooping over the rocks looking for sealife in the pools. By this time the sun was setting, so we turned to watch it. The sky held that incredible combination of colors of gold and pink and a flaming salmon rose, which were reflected on the wet sand, making it look iridescent. Seagulls were crossing the sky and the wind was whipping our hair against our faces. The crashing waves felt like my very lifeblood in my veins. I felt I could stay there forever. When we came back, it was dusk, and I sat on an Adirondack chair on the screen porch, feeling a sea wind that no ceiling fan could duplicate. I'm going to go back out when it gets dark. (No, I won't go swimming. I've seen Jaws. I am a believer.) I've seen the beach at night only once and it was one of those rare moments in my life where I felt like I could really touch God, it was that beautiful, that awesome, that profound. It's where I feel at peace. For some people, it's the mountains. For others, say, out West. For me, it's the beach. And it doesn't even matter what season it is or what time of day it is. I even love the beach in the rain. It's inspiring no matter what. (Well, except for that whole hurricane season thing. I could do without that.) So anyway, this is my first day of vacation, and I have to say it's pretty satisfying so far. More later.