Sand Escape

Here we are, at Kynance Cove, lying on on the beach. I just finished my time in the ocean, body-checking waves and getting pummelled in return. The water's too sandy though, and too full of seaweed for me to fully enjoy the water or swimming.

Anne's sitting in the shade on the Serpentine rocks, watching the waves and us. Blair's a couple of feet away, sitting inside the moat and wall of sand she built. And I'm lying here on my rainbow-coloured sarong, with the sun kissing my skin and a faint taste of salt on my lips.

I love sarongs. Skirt, shirt, sweater, curtain, hair covering... the list goes on. And on a beach, they're much better to lie on than a towel since they're big, thin, and don't catch and keep sand the way towels do.

I have a pet peeve about sand in my orifices, especially without a clear ocean to dunk it off in. My "dunk" earlier has me covered in seaweed. I even found some between the extra material in the crotch of my bathing suit and the bikini itself.

But I'm happy, and my jewelry, hair, skin, and soul all loved the water. I ran in and let the waves dunk me, then faced them full on and jumped into them as they crested and broke and slammed against me. It was as if we were two drunk frat boys going UNH and banging their chests into each other.

Heh.

Well, maybe not the best analogy, but you get the idea. Companionship and joy that need to be expressed physically. And now, a constant shower of sand from my dried hair, and a constant retreat from the encroaching shade as the sun lowers beneath the huge rocks surrounding us. A retreat both for us and for the lowering tide.

And there's no hiding from the sand.

It always amazes me how quickly the tide goes in and out. Each wave is further out or in than the last, the movement unstoppable. And then there's the knowledge that the same ovean is breaking on shores all over the worls, and my tough of the water here will eventually touch someone in Van, Quebec, Barbados, Jamaica.

People are clearing out now. Towels are being folded and rolled, and children (including hopefully the little demon child who kicked sand at me) are being collected and led away. The shadows are moving faster than the tide, and already we're lying on a damp beach from our retreat into the tides.

Soon, we'll be forced into an area where the waves will lap at our feet, and soon after that it'll be a choice to lie in the waves or finally leave.

But I'm ready to leave if need be. It's been a nice communion.

Muah, my love. I'll be back.

Lah.