What is it about the beach and the sight of the endless ocean that has such an effect on me? The feel of soft dry sand under my feet or the cool wet sand as I stand amid the waves in their rhythmic quiet crashing all around me, their soothing sound washing over me. The contrast of the blues of the water with the lighter blue of the sky, and the wind blowing refreshingly over my skin. The warmth of the sun, the lack of a clock anywhere, the absolute freedom to just be. The specialness of a gorgeous new swimsuit (with the certainty that pictures of me in it will never, ever make it to Facebook).
We spent the last day of our trip at the beach. All of it. Paul convinced me that we could drive the Nissan on the beach, even though it was practically as low to the ground as a snake and is front wheel drive, and he was right. As long as you drive close to the water where the sand is packed you can go for miles. Of course, at times that presents a bit of an issue when other cars or people are parked right in your path. That happened to us one night earlier, and in our effort to go around we got stuck. Fortunately the beach was more populated that evening and within 30 seconds a couple of guys in an old beat up pickup stopped, handed us a shovel, and I got to drive on the beach – sort of – while my husband dug the car out. One of those experiences I don’t mind saying I had now that it is behind me, and a welcome reminder of how good it is to help strangers.
For this beach trip we drove to the last access point before the roads were completely blocked with sand dunes. We paid, were handed a plastic trash bag and told if we picked up some trash and brought it back upon exit we’d get half the fee returned. Cool, I’m an unlitterbug at heart, plus that would give Paul something to jack with as I sat relaxing.
I did do some sitting and relaxing, especially later in the day as the sun became more intense. But I found myself absolutely drawn to the hidden treasure of sea shells just waiting to be discovered. There were literally miles of them – the recent storms had washed up thousands on the shore. I have always loved sea shells, and each time I go to the beach I try to collect a few special ones. This trip I packed an entire 6-pack size cooler with them. I found tiny delicate ones, unbroken and perfectly formed with a small hole just the right size for stringing onto a necklace for a granddaughter. We found several large, grapefruit size shells, unbroken yet pitted by sand and water. There were a few unique shaped ones with colors that shone when you placed them under the water. Some were smooth, some had ridges. So many shades of blues, warm browns, tan and sand colors, bright white and a few in the pink family. I searched for hours, marveling at the selection and hoping to find that perfect conch. It is unusual to find one of those unbroken; I’ve only found one like that before, and this time all I saw were pieces that told me a few had been here, likely broken in the transfer from the deep to the surface.
Lunch was Leftovers with a Twist. Paul is especially good at this. Who knew you could take delicious fresh, caught-yesterday-and-prepared-by-a-gourmet chef trout with a side of garlic-creamed spinach and rice and use it as a dip for chips, Melba toast or rice cakes? And if you are my husband you top it with homemade queso, place some lettuce leaves on your plate for salad, a side of cheese and crackers, and voila, a fancy feast beachside. Delightful.
That was one of the most relaxing days I’ve had in years. Good mix of conversation and silence against the backdrop of that beautiful scene and pleasant sounds that only God’s nature can make. Time to beach comb, lie in the sun, rest in the shade, walk in the water, and reflect on the blessings God has poured out on me. In other decades I’ve had my share of tumultuous times; the thought of them enables me to fully savor the sweetness of times like these. Yes, we made some memories this trip, one that will always rank among “the best ever.”
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