How to Beach, and Other Details for When She Beckons You

Sometimes you need to inhale salty air. For us, at least once a week. Today was that day. Walk with us.

To start the process of the weekly beach visit, one must first select the most neon bathing attire possible.

Then, pick up breakfast somewhere, because when the ocean calls, you don’t go to the trouble of scrambling eggs. You hit that sand as soon as possible. You feel that crunch of shells beneath your feet.

Once you feel the crunch, you must get within ten feet of the water and plop down to build a sand castle. Any farther from the water and you are taking out all the drama involved in construction.

Once your castle is complete, you shade your eyes from the sun and stare at the water. Give it a good long stare. Watch the waves crash, then roll forward, then roll back; then crash, forward, back; crash, forward, back...get relaxed. Unless you are a child, and in that case just skip all that and start trotting down the beach.

Like a dog catching a sniff, stop briefly to feel the wet sand between your toes. Watch the water get pushed away by the pressure of your weight on the sand. Then let a wave push itself to its absolute limits over your toes, and wash back. Crash, forward, back…

Or, (if you are a child) skip the last step and run with your bucket in hand to start picking up as many large arcs, oysters, and clams you can find. You have a quota to meet—anything less than one hundred shells brought home is an embarrassment to a self-respecting four-year-old.

Once your bucket is weighted down enough to be squashed into an oval shape and the handle threatens to give way, you are doing well. Snatch your little sister’s empty bucket, pretend both buckets are boats, and experiment to see which boat floats better. Watch as the mini waves against the shore act like a deep, fierce ocean to your little boats. They bob and spin and take on water.

By now, it is nearly lunch time. The ocean purrs, sputters, beckons. But you know better than to listen to that siren song. If you stay any longer you’ll all be lobsters. So, continue to collect things on the way back—a few odd crab claws, sea glass, a small chunk of driftwood, broken sunglasses, and a few miscellaneous mystery items.

Bid adieu to the salty enchantress. Tell her you will return, if only briefly, for another visit soon. Tell her you love her.