Beach

What is it about the beach?  There is something elemental about it that draws me inexorably to it. Truth be told, I'm not a big swimmer.  I barely passed my swimming merit badge when I was a boy scout about 50 years ago - and I haven't gotten any better over time. I very seldom choose to go swimming, almost never in New England cold ocean water - and of course my pasty white old man body burning in the direct sun is not an enticement either (sorry for that mental  image I just imposed on you).  But I sure do like to be close to and walk on the beach - hear the crashing surf, feel the wind, the salt spray, the sun, see and feel the wide open space of sky and sea, imagine the distant coastline of Spain and Portugal thousands of miles of water away, and watch dogs chase tennis balls with  uncontained joy.

I like the beach. I don't think I've ever come home from the beach thinking, "that was a waste of time." Well, except maybe once - when the tide was really high, the wind was coming in straight off the water, the wind chill temperature was in single digits, and I had neither hat, scarf, nor gloves - I know I didn't like that too much at all. But on the other hand, I did think that a warm beach somewhere else would be nice.........