Time for a spring 'beach fix,' my mama says.
Always ready, let's pack the car, is my reply
(Anytime I drive eight hours, there should be a beach where and when I climb out of the car)
Fourth floor balcony views -
Deep, dark blue, medium aqua, translucent green - shades of a paint card
Rolling, swelling waves of salt and foam sliding over white sand.
Bikinis, swim shorts, flirty skirts, terry cloth wraps, trunks in every length
Sun visors, straw hats, flip flops, sunglasses, beach towels.
UK blue lounge chairs, wide umbrellas rippling in the breeze
Rainbow awnings, sand chairs of every color, kites overhead
Life guard with a clipboard and a jug of water.
Dawn walks in the sand - foggy mist and cold toes
Or rising sun, orange gleaming surf, blinding glare and fishermen.
Shells - scallops, conchs, olives, Scotch Bonnets
Coquinas, auguers, whelks, sand dollars (oh, joy)
Scattered across wet sand.
Seaweed, driftwood, jelly fish bits and pieces, dolphins playing
Portuguese Man O War, but no sharks or rays this trip.
Familiar faces - old friends seen again and again
Some from home, some local
Strangers - good morning and a smile - seen one day and not again.
The beach, the beach town - familiar and beloved - the same and not the same
Changing tides, shifting sands, stormy skies, bright sunshine.
Return to Home Sweet Home ... as always
The vacation, the visit, all too short
The anticipation of another 'beach fix' already building.
Thankful for the blessings - God's amazing creation, mothers and daughters, friends
And traveling mercies to and from.
A marvelous week of fifty-two.
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