11 December 2012 nonfiction, "The Beach"

It’s impossible to say how long it’s been since I’ve been to the beach. All I know is that it has been quite long enough. I don’t know what it is about the beach. I don’t think it’s the fact that it is so mainstream, because I have loved the beach since I have been able to say the word, and I know I knew how to say “beach” before I knew how to say “hipster”. I want to go and soak in the sun. I want to squish my toes in the sand and smile because the sensation is like nothing in the world. I want to feel the gentle kiss of the ocean waves as I walk really close to where the damp sand becomes wet and stuck together, softer than anything I’ve stepped on before. I want to smell the salty sea air, something that you can’t capture and keep no matter how hard you try. The beach is something that can’t be replicated. It’s unbelievable, because no other place in the entire world makes me feel one iota like the way the beach makes me feel. It makes me feel free and sometimes I just want to smile and close my eyes and breathe it all in. I want to run along and splash and laugh like I’ve just heard the funniest joke in the entire world. I want to feel free, like I’ve finally let my soul feel its own way to happiness. I want to let loose and not worry about who looks skinnier than me in their bikini because I want to be worried about how the beach looks to my innocent and wide eyes. it’s not even like I want to be the best on it, I just want to be a part of it. I always feel so out of place at the beach, because I feel so at home but I know I don’t spend nearly enough time there. I just so desperately want to accidentally swallow a gulp of salty water and breathe in a few grains of sand, laughing as I pull my hair into a messy bun because it’s full of beach nutrients that make it feel healthy and gross all at the same time.

What an opportunity, to be at the beach when there is snow. What a contrast! It makes me shiver and wonder how two different worlds can collide so easily like that. The beach isn’t the winter the winter isn’t the summer the sand doesn’t know how to accept such a gentle cool break from the overbearing sun. sea grass isn’t meant to be a dish best served cold because it’s so much better nuked from the warmth of the microwave oven that engulfs it in light and heat. A snowman made of sand and snow? What is that how could that be possible? It’s beautiful and contrasting and I just can’t bear to think of it existing in a place where my eyes cant carefully monitor to make sense of it.