Ocean Respite

Two weeks living on the ocean’s edge, the only constants in my day was the sound of pounding surf and sand on my feet, a morning swim and bike ride to get milk or meet the ferry as more family arrived, filling the wagon with luggage and boxes of food, a walk along the shore, beach volleyball, afternoons riding the waves, beach yoga, shucking corn, beach dance music, eating peaches, beach runs, ice cream, laughing, moonlit swims, and letting the clock hands fade for a brief time-less span. Our only agenda, unwind and restore.

 

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Hiatus

Nine Cent Girl is my love and joy, to ponder, to construct, and to write. However, for the next two weeks two other loves will dominate my time. First, writing and editing my novel all morning in my vacation-home-makeshift-office…

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and second, lazing around with my family on the beach all afternoon. Time to ride the waves, collect shells, and listen to the stories.

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Luckily, this August affords us the leisure to walk along the shore, chat about the months apart, and sit long enough to watch the sun set deep into the horizon until we relax fully.

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These last dog days of summer take a hiatus from your day to day grind. Shift gears to low. September will be here soon enough.

 

Family Series, part 2: the beach

I’ve written about the beach before. About dinner picnics. About July along the Long Island coast. There is no stopping my reminiscing when it comes to lineupthe sea shore, for my people are water people. Not the Maine coast type. Those people just want to look at unrelentingly cold waves. No, we are people clamoring to be in the waves before breakfast. We are people who live to body surf in warm waves until last light. We are also the people who stay in the shadows during the sun light hours. Fair-skinned Irish. Sunburners. Our beach hours came after 3:00 pm, the magically approved time according to our father, the fairest of all.

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