Away from routine, after four hours of traffic — the beach feels like another world.
A different reality where the rules vanish with the time.
Sun up. Sun down.
Meals whenever.
That's the only rhythm.
Bare feet and ragged t-shirts.
Wet beers plucked from a sandy cooler before noon.
Someone is smoking a cigarette.
It mixes with vinegar and peanut oil from the french fry stand. And the rich smell of waffle cones. And the synthetic coconut of sun oil.
The natural soapy linen smell of ocean spray.
Your whole body is a waking limb. Alive again.
Sparkling with energy like a fresh poured Coke.
The shock of cold ocean water.
Then drying in the hot sun until it makes you all tight.
A sun so bright, you close your eyes and still see it.
Beach sunlight is so warm, so thick, you can almost hold it. Its so damn bright, it gives you pinpoint vision where you can only see the thing right in front of you. And everything glows a little.
I sometimes think the shore is God's doorstep.
If you've ever stood alone at the break and stared into the distance, you know what I mean.
In your mind, you know that the rest of earth is on the other side of it. But standing there, you're not so sure.
You stand there and you don't see it, you feel the vast unknown. Its hard not to sense something divine when you're face to face with dark, silent mystery.
You become whole when you breath that air.
Thoughts go silent. Its all sensation.
Cold water. Hot sun.
More real than your mind can get ahold of, so it stops trying.
Its easy to forget there is anything but this.
A parade of women in bikinis and old men with guts pouring over drawstring waist bands.
Sweat and raw, red skin. Even the misery is luxurious.
Kids play. But they don't stop to covet this moment.
They don't question if this moment could last forever.
For them, every moment is forever.
The sun, the sand and the cold water.
The sensation of being alive in nature.
Raw and pure.
With the the right amount of human touch.
Being small next to something vast.
Needing nothing more than sunbaked terrycloth and a popsicle to make it all make sense.
That's all I ever want.
That pure hum. Alive under the sun.