I don’t know that I’ve written enough about the beach.  We live about 45 minutes from the coast where there are three or four beaches to choose from. Our favorite is Hampton Beach, but sometimes we choose Jenness Beach in Rye. We have a couple of beach chairs, blanket, umbrella, and a beach cooler. The night before, we throw bottles of water in the freezer. In the morning, we pack a lunch, some snacks, and our water and go. I store the umbrella and chairs in the back of my car through the summer to make it easier. Most of the time we go by ourselves and arrive early in the morning to beat the crowds. If we go with Mark and Maria, it’s more of an afternoon thing. Going to the beach has become a way of life. If you’re wondering why I’m writing about going to the beach as a tourist activity, you didn’t grow up in the midwest.

In the midwest we didn’t have oceans, we had lakes. We didn’t have beaches, we had docks. Going to the beach required plane tickets and hotel reservations. We owned a pool because we didn’t have a beach.  Though I loved and miss my pool, living so close to the beach,  feels like I’m on vacation with every visit.

The beach is different every time you go. Sometimes the waves are calm and you see people taking their chairs right to the water’s edge to soak in the surf. Other times the waves are high and young people ride the swells on their boogie boards or try their hand at body surfing. If you time it right in June, you might see a sand sculpture competition, or maybe there’s a Miss Hampton Beach pageant in the shell.

I’ve noticed that people in New England go to the beach to enjoy the sun and the water. One of our favorite things is to just walk up and down the sand letting the surf crash against our ankles, and watch people. You see all types at the beach, from old men in Speedos, to Sports Illustrated model wannabes.  You might have to dodge a frisbee or make way for a triathlete, but the walk is fresh and rejuvenates your spirits. It also reminds you that people are people, and the beach tears away many of the boundaries that divide us. There are very few politics at the beach, just people enjoying the beauty of nature.

There’s kind of an unwritten code at the beach that you don’t invade someone else’s space. That’s not to say that people won’t set up camp within two feet of you. It simply means that people tend to stay out of other people’s stuff. You can leave your things, take a walk, and be pretty sure that all your belongings will be there upon your return. Umbrellas are great markers. After you’ve been on a walk, they make ieasy to spot your spot!

One Sunday morning we arrived before the crowds and set up our area on the ridge of sand that overlooks the tide. It was a great view, and not too crowded. As time passed and more people came, Janet began to notice that many of the women around us had abandoned the top part of their swimsuits as they played in the water. A quick search on my phone revealed that the day had been declared “Bare the Breast Day” at Hampton Beach, and our area was headquarters. You just never know what you might see at the beach.

Janet loves the beach. I try to take her as often as I can, because it’s like a second home to her. She reads as she soaks in the sun, relishing every moment, content to listen to the crashing of the sea. I’ve said before that adventures can be repeated. For me, the beach is an adventure that not only can be repeated, it can be routine.

 

“Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.” – Helen Keller