My family, like so many families this summer, recently headed to the beach, to Cape San Blas, a heavenly peninsula in the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. It was a time of merciless sun and breathtaking sunsets, salty air, coconut-scented sunscreen mingled with sweet sweat, sand clinging to damp skin, wind-dried hair, half-consumed water bottles strewn about, wet towels draped over every available surface, and gluttonous quantities of fried clams, seafood chowder, fresh shrimp, and tartar sauce drenched fish.
Life is better by the sea.
While there, in the throws of vacation ecstasy, we spun out cotton-candy dream-plans to make the ocean our permanent, year-round, lifelong destination. We'd buy a two-bedroom cottage with an ocean view, purchase infinite numbers of shorts and tank tops, and have a weekly bonfire on the beach. To pay the bills, my husband would get his ordination license and together, he and I would do weddings and elopements for visiting couples: he would perform the ceremonies, and I would photograph them. (My friend Jan, who was also at the beach with us, volunteered for the job of wedding coordinator).
Life is better by the sea
We miss it already, that semi-limbo, almost surreal monotone that one drifts through when one's seemingly endless days are filled with the delicious monotony of early morning swim-float sessions, casual sandwich-and-potato-chip lunches, afternoon naps, and sunset seashell hunting, sand and sea foam pooling between bare toes and eddying around ankles. Life now, having been away from the ocean for right at a week, is taking on again that hard bite of reality, of laundry and chores and "day jobs".
Oh the harsh, harsh reality of day jobs!
Life is better by the sea.
All that lingers are fading tan lines, worn flip-flips, and peeling, sand-scoured feet. And photographs. And Memories. And smiles of reminiscence.
"The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea." - Isak Dinesen