August 9…. Beach! Beach!

I grew up in north Florida, always within a short drive to salt water. The Atlantic Ocean. The Gulf. Digging in the sand, frolicking in the waves. Yes, I can frolic. 😁

When we lived here, going to the beach was just a ho hum experience. We came for an hour or two and went home. As I moved further away, the beach became an annual vacation destination. We brought the kids here, stayed in rented condos for a week at a time, and packed as much beach vacation into those short 7 days as was humanly possible. Counting the days till our week began, and dreading the end of that week. Gotta relax as hard as possible. Forget about work or school for a while.

The regular restaurants… O’Steens, Barnacle Bills, The Conch House. All the fried shrimp we could get before heading home and missing it till next year. The book store for those vacation reads, Alvin’s Island for beach toys to replace the lost ones from last year, or a new boogie board because they grew out of the old one. We had our routines. Our regular haunts.

But this time it’s different.

What is a vacation when your whole life is an endless adventure??

Yes, I was counting time till we got here, but this time I’m not dreading the end. Why should I, when that just means we head for the next adventure? I’m not thinking about work, trying desperately to forget it. Wondering what fresh disaster I’ll have to deal with when we get back. None of that crosses my mind.

I spent the entire day today on the sand. I read. I napped. I people watched. The same stuff I always looked forward to every year. Totally relaxed. But today it felt a little off. Pretty sure it’s not the beach that has changed, and I’m definitely sure it’s not me that’s changed. 🤔 Hmmm….