I love the beach.
and, we hadn’t gone last summer at all, and this summer was looking to be a repeat.
I grew up at the ocean, for the most part. I suppose it really started in Sri Lanka, when I was four or five, and we were at the ocean, with reportedly strong waves that rolled me around to a perilous degree.
These were followed by living most of my childhood and adolescence within an hour of the Pacific Ocean, and always feeling that the ocean was my solace.
Not those ridiculous noise makers on our smartphones, or our smart-alarm clocks, that have soothing “Ocean Wave” sounds to lull us into sleep. There’s something disingenuous about those sounds…the loops are too short, i guess, or something. listening to the waves, in real life, it seems like the loops should be adequate, but there must be some tiny irregularity that results in the thing sounding fake.
or maybe it’s the salt air, or the dampness, or the heat…
I have no idea.
but, a visit to the ocean is restorative to me. that’s all there is to it.
the boys were worried about sharks, especially J, the younger.
and, yet, sharks pose little risk!!
the delight, for me, of our short trip to the beach this year was my anxious younger boy’s delight in the soft sand, and the delicious rolling waves that tousled him about.
And, after only a 36 hour trip to the beach for me (the boys stayed a little longer there), I do feel restored, my soul feels renewed.
what is it about the ocean? why does it hold such power?