Tuesday, October 13, 2009

salty splashes

I do so love the beach.  It must be in my blood, left from my formative years in southern California.  The smell of the Gulf coast isn't as good, but the sand and water are better than those of the Pacific.

"Try to keep your clothes... dry.  Oh well, we can go change before dinner."  That was the first visit to the beach immediately after unloading the car at the condo.  Keep a kid dry?  What was I thinking?

After a great vacation breakfast of sausage and biscuits we headed back to the waves.  The boys ran with glee into the surf.  Bug loved letting the waves crash into his chest and to dive or jump into them.  The water was so shallow for such a distance that even beyond the waves I could still stand (except for the unexpected drop offs which occurred just as a large wave approached).  It was perfect for little kids and boogie boards.  They split their time between the salty splashes and the sand, which they used for a few sand castles but primarily for digging holes.  Pook came running to me, yelling, "I dug to China!  Or at least to water!"  Bug found a shell which I tucked into my swim suit to save for him. I later realized that someone still lived in the shell.  Bug named him George, the Bivalve.

Within minutes of admiring the clouds in the distance which were obviously dumping rain, it began to rain on us.  I don't remember being on a beach in the rain, and we could have stayed, but we packed up.  We'd barely rinsed our sandy feet at the condo when the sun reappeared.

We took the dry opportunity to go see the Oyster Spat Festival (spat, n. An oyster or similar bivalve mollusk in the larval stage, especially when it settles to the bottom and begins to develop a shell.*)  We'd read that Saturday's festivities would begin with a parade at 11:00am.  It was 10:40 so I suggested we head out to see it.  But this was an island on Island Time.  It took five hot minutes to walk to the main road where we waited in the hot sun for the parade. There is a different climate mere yards from the water at the beach. From 'Beach Lovely' it quickly becomes 'Just Plain Hot', no, make that 'Hot and Muggy'.  "If you look up 'muggy' in the dictionary, you'll get this," commented CD.  Finally we heard the marching band (all ten or twelve teens).  A firetruck, the sheriff, about six cars displaying only advertising and the parade was over.  At least someone had thrown candy and a Frisbee to the kids.  We escaped the heat and went into an ice cream shop.  Candy! and ice cream! before lunch!  It must be vacation!


1 comment:

  1. I do so love the beach. It must be in my blood, left from my formative years in southern California.

    Same here!! I felt like I'd gone "home" when we were in Virginia Beach in August. Obviously a different ocean, but it was the ocean nonetheless! And it was muggy there, too. Don't remember that kind of weather in San Diego!