beach day
Some things are guaranteed to shake one out of a funk. No matter how deeply one might have mired oneself in grumpiness and irritability and pure disdain for everything else that might go wrong - nothing rescues you like a trip to the beach.
It is looking at your untanned self at the end of the day and sighing, only to smile when the first red blush of a burn starts to show up hours later, where the back of your legs and your shoulders were exposed to the sun while you laid on cool white sheets in the sand and read a Jodi Picoult novel. It is the splashing of sea water and trying but not being able to make out underwater because the whole ocean would go straight up your nose. It is imagining the sailboat just on the edge of the horizon slowly tipping on its side as it falls off the edge of the world.
And it is standing tall in the water, yelling excitedly in crescendo as a wave breaks and curls towards you, focusing on the tumbling sight and roaring sound, leaping as high as you can go so the rushing white smacks you hard in the chest, fighting to stay upright, fiercely denying the world the right to knock you over, shaking out your hair and wiping your eyes, laughing, shouting, and spinning back to look for the next one.
It is looking at your untanned self at the end of the day and sighing, only to smile when the first red blush of a burn starts to show up hours later, where the back of your legs and your shoulders were exposed to the sun while you laid on cool white sheets in the sand and read a Jodi Picoult novel. It is the splashing of sea water and trying but not being able to make out underwater because the whole ocean would go straight up your nose. It is imagining the sailboat just on the edge of the horizon slowly tipping on its side as it falls off the edge of the world.
And it is standing tall in the water, yelling excitedly in crescendo as a wave breaks and curls towards you, focusing on the tumbling sight and roaring sound, leaping as high as you can go so the rushing white smacks you hard in the chest, fighting to stay upright, fiercely denying the world the right to knock you over, shaking out your hair and wiping your eyes, laughing, shouting, and spinning back to look for the next one.
