It's just always felt like home, here on this beach.
Probably because it is home, in a way. I've been coming to this stretch of coast on the Florida gulf every summer since I was about 7 years old. I might have been 8. I'm not really certain. But every summer, without fail, my feet have hit these sands and my heart has spilled over with relief and gratitude into the bubbling foamy sea. This horizon has absorbed a lot of my heart cries over the years - sadness over break ups, joy over making the squad, relief from finals, anticipation for my wedding, anticipation for moving to Boston, anticipation for moving to New York, anticipation for having a baby... the list goes on and on. This has been the place where I've "worked out” a lot my life challenges, had my conversations with God, while staring into this azure sea.
This is the kind of place that I have grown to need. To love and to cherish. We all have a place like this, right?
This time around, I got to watch my husband teach my little son how to play frisbee. I smile because this is the same beach where I learned to throw a frisbee so many years ago, when Stevie and I were dating and he couldn’t just sit still and read books with me for 7 days in a row. This is where I learned to love the feeling of the sea spray on my face while I angled the disc just so and sent it soaring across the shoreline to my partner in crime. And now, watching my not even two-year-old son experience the same bewildering joy - well, that’s what I think they call nostalgia. And aging. And really, really wonderful.
I did a rascal job of actually capturing a lot of moments through the lens during this beach week, and that was actually on purpose. This is the kind of week where I put away my phone, neglect all beauty products, and wear little more than bathing suits and pajamas. I shut off from the outside world, partly because the Internet connection is so poor anyway, and just eat ice cream and have conversations with family and stare at the ocean. So these are the few rare shots I took when I actually remembered to pull my camera out and capture the moment.
I hope you get the opportunity to retreat somewhere this summer. Everyone deserves a reprieve from from the hovering chaos of calendaring and task lists.