Adventures on the Beach

I have a complicated relationship with the beach.

I have never liked slathering my skin in suntan lotion and sitting under the hot sun while it's at its highest point in the sky. The people at the beach are too loud and they move too fast; and there are far too many of them, all with unnaturally perfect bodies. The water is unpredictable, cold, and not nearly transparent enough. And the sand, my god the sand, it's everywhere, sticking to your skin, taking shelter under your fingernails, in your bag, and on your towel, just to remain there forever.

But sometimes I do love the beach; it was three years ago when I first realized this.

The night had settled, we just finished dinner, and we were laughing. Laughing, laughing, laughing. I don't remember what we were talking about or if anything was funny, but what does it matter? We sat, outside, at a restaurant on the beach.

I left the table with my cousins but as I walked, they were forgotten behind me. I took off my shoes, held them in my hand. I walked across the beach, feet swallowed by the sand with every step. Water hit the shore steadily washing over my bare toes.

I walked farther than I could see. The sounds of waves and the faded sound of an acoustic guitar drowned out the world. I felt small, looking out onto the endless water and endless beach, but at the same time, I felt present and important. It was just me, the waves, the sand, the music, and my thoughts. 

The fresh smell, blown at me by the strong winds of the sea, cannot be even close to replicated. At the end of the beach, it was a cluster of large, jagged rocks. There the water was even more intense and beautiful, especially when it turned white against the rocks. I found a flat slab and climbed my way on top to sit on it with my legs dangling above the crashing waves. 

I looked out and found that I couldn't see where the water ended and the sky began, it was all a black abyss. When travellers used to think the world was flat I suspected that this was what they expected to see. 

There was no distance, but somehow it was all distance.

I was nothing, but I was also everything. 

I thought time ceased to exist. But, of course, that was a mere illusion painted by the beach when it was dark and void of people. I hadn't forgotten about the people, they were just in the distance, where I couldn't hear what they were saying, just see their heads thrown back in laughter.

Eventually, my name was called and I cursed having to return to reality. But I decided that, yes, I loved the beach.

Author's note: Worth mentioning that I wrote this for my mom on her birthday.