I left them sitting with their heads in their shirts and went to stand knee deep in the surf. It was cold. But that was ok with me. The fierce wind, the cold, cold surf had driven off the vain sunbathers and all but the most diligent beach-goers. It was people quiet. I watched tiny sand crabs climb in and out of their little water-sand houses, the cormorants jump and soar off the big rocks, and a long, low pelican skim the water. Eventually Emma came to stand by me. I pointed out the natural things I had seen, asked what she saw. Gabriel dug a shallow hole in the sand and laid in it, hoping to block himself from the wind. It didn't really work. The sand blew into the hole, and thereby into his hair and eyes. Sad day for Beeb.
So here's what I learned (I know you're simply dying to know): Some days at the beach are not the lovely sunny days we hope to get. Some of them are cold and windy. But it is still, after all the elements are peeled back, what we make of it. My life has had lots of days in it. Some of them have been traditional "day at the beach" kinds of days, others not so much. And sometimes that makes me mad. Sometimes I bury my body in the sand and complain and hope for the day to be over. And then sometimes I get it right. Sometimes I get to see birds and fish and little crustaceans and be wowed by the prettiness of this little blue world. I'm happy to report that yesterday I got it right. Let's see how today goes, eh?
