Of sand and sea

for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea
-e. e. cummings
This weekend we decided to take advantage of the last 3-day weekend of the summer and head for the Oregon Coast.

Through some feat of magic, we manage to cram our stuff and my sister (and her rather large cooler) into our very SMALL car and we are on our way. We meet my parents in a tiny town called Gearhart just a few miles south of Astoria where we move into our home away from home… a condo with a pool and a playground and BEST OF ALL the beach just steps from our door.

I think I have mermaid in my blood or maybe a seagull ancestor. I feel the most alive when my toes are bare and sandy, my ears are filled with the sound of crashing surf, and when I am breathing in the salty damp air of the sea. Walking by the waves, splashing in the salty water, picking up sand dollars and shells, or relaxing in a low beach chair with a good book… this is when my body hums with happiness and my soul sighs a happy AHHHHHH.

Within minutes of our arrival at the beach, CJ is sprawled out in the sand, digging, piling, raking it with his fingers. He spends an hour building a home for a millipede and two hours racing back and forth from the edge of the ocean, madly throwing handfuls of wet sand at the frothy surf. HA HA HA HA HA! He shrieks as he leaps over the water, landing with a splash.

We drink pots of hot coffee with cream, feast on homemade pie and hotdogs fresh from the grill, take naps EVERY SINGLE DAY and treat ourselves to delicious ice-cream cones from Pop’s. Our most strenuous activity is strolling on the beach, and I wear the same pair of cropped jeans and a big sweatshirt the whole time.

We return home rested, rejuvenated, and content. Our car is sandy, our cheeks are pink, and we are ready to dive back into life.

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