Love the Beach 6-26-09
We are beach people. Those teachers who are lucky enough to live in or near a resort coastal town probably got there because of the beach. We have off in the summers (if you don’t count the summer jobs, summer coursework and summer tutoring) and we like the beach. Well, scratch that. We love the beach. Truth be told, I love the beach. Me. I admit it! It is a serious and sustained love affair that has been going on for decades. I am smitten.
Like most people I meet who visit here, I have fond memories of being a child at the beach. My father, mother, grandfather and grandmother would pack a picnic lunch of salami sandwiches on white bread, chips and fruit. We had a small cooler with fruit punch drinks which we drank out of Tupperware plastic cups. My Papa would carry a large heavy beach umbrella in green with an orange strip made with a wooden pole. We had beach blankets, old bedspreads, that were kept just for the sand and after we spread them out we would anchor them with our flip flops.
Flip flops probably cost about 29 cents and they all looked alike except for the colors and sizes: mine were yellow and rubbery. The center strap took some getting used to between my toes but it meant that summer was here and that was such a good thing. The other piece of necessary apparel was a pair of white sunglasses which my sister Denise loved to wear. I have a picture of her with her nose scrunched up and her sunglasses on. We didn’t know anything much about UV rays or the harmful effects of the sun. We just knew that we looked good in sunglasses in the summer, so we wore them with panache.
There were beach rules. One rule was never to get sand on the blanket and when we did get sand on it we had to go shake it out far away from the other beach people so as not to disturb them. We learned sand etiquette early and to this day I smile watching others instruct their children about how to conduct themselves at the beach.
The other important rule was never to throw sand. It is unthinkable that in a fit of sisterly mischief, I would pick up a handful of sand and sling it at her. Absolutely forbidden! Believe me when I tell you that my parents did not have to remind us often because we would not be allowed to come back to the beach if we didn’t learn the simple rules. So we were fast learners.
I can remember holding my father’s hand and sticking my toes in the ocean as waves crashed just beyond us: such powerful waves and such breathtaking refreshment. Holding onto dad’s hand and learning to understand the forces of nature. With each wave that I jumped, I became more confident of my ability to swim and enjoy the salt water, learning that the world can be a big, scary as the ocean but that ocean can also be a wonderful place to float and relax. Just depends upon skill and perspective.
