J and I drove an hour and a half to get to the beach today, and it was well worth it. We used to live less than five minutes from the beach. We would see the surf every day. We could hear the waves pounding the shore at night during the winter. It was part of our everyday existence, and it’s hard to be so far from it now.
Today started off a little cranky. We’re dealing with cat issues (post to come), and we were both a little in the dumps, so we needed to get out. It turned out to be a lovely day. Here, it was in the nineties and unbearably hot, but on the coast, it was in the upper sixties with a light wind and plenty of sun.
Families were out flying kites and having picnics. Kids were burying each other in the sand and getting wet in the freezing ocean. It was beautiful.
We also simply sat on a giant piece of driftwood and stared at the surf. We were windblown and sun-kissed by the time we left, and our spirits were lifted tenfold. The beach and the forest are two places that are guaranteed to calm me and lift me out of even the worst funks. As you can see, I was downright breezy by the time we left:
Next year we are hoping to move about thirty miles west of our current town, and one of the reasons is so that we will be closer to the ocean. We won’t live nearly as close as we once did in our old hometown, but it will be less than half an hour away, which will be blissful on those days when our moods seem irreparable and all we need is some salty air and the rhythm of the surf. For now, it’s a lovely treat when we get to go. I had forgotten how much I missed it.