As springtime segues into summer and Memorial Day approaches, the need for a beach becomes a craving to be satisfied only by grainy sand and warm, salty breezes. The sounds of the seagulls and the crashing waves from far away storms at sea echo from years past.
It's time to find an old swimsuit that fits, or find a new one that reminds me that I can still wear a swimsuit without inciting a trail of giggles. The lure of the waves is too compelling to avoid. Fill the beach bag with the latest thriller plot, sunscreen smelling of coconut oil, a bag for seashells, and a beach towel bigger than I. Those over-sized, Jackie O. sunshades are a must. A dermatologist-approved sunhat, sand chair, and umbrella complete the supplies.
Hours must be spent gazing at rolling waves of surf. Walks in racing foam on hot sand yields shells of mysterious sea life. Thinking of nothing for days on end renews the spirit more than a good night's sleep. The lazy days of lounging, napping, reading and sun gazing are rewards for a year well-spent.
You are making me long for those beaches. Ours are nice, but rocky and of course we don't have warm weather, either. Summer here lasts for about a week... :-)
ReplyDeleteIts years since I had a beach holiday ... this post brings back memories!
ReplyDeleteI was missing you, seems an age since you last posted!
I took a break for a time while so many other activities filled my time. I enjoy checking in with the bloggers so I never leave entirely. My retirement is getting busier than I ever imagined. I used to laugh at all the folks who said they don't know how they used to have time to go to work. It is easy to over schedule my time. It is always great to hear from old friends.
ReplyDeletewhen I was growing up we had a beach house. not directly on the beach but on the bay side of a barrier island. all my summers from the time I was about 12 were spent there.
ReplyDeleteEllen, I grew up going to the lovely beaches of the Gulf coast of Florida. It is the standard by which I judge beaches. I used to visit my Dad when he lived in Houston and the visit to Galveston was always a treat. There is something special about the sand in that part of the world--or at least it used to be great. I don't know what the oil industry has done to it.
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