Stuff That I Like: The Beach

It’s Monday morning and I feel like I’ve been kicked in the back of the skull. My body is aching, I feel too tired to responsibly operate heavy machinery, and my fingers are rebelling as I pipette the 150th DNA sample. I may feel close to death, but all I can really comprehend is my desire to go back to the beach.

It keeps me from being crabby. ZING.

On Saturday, the three best friends took a day trip to Ocean City, MD. The weather ended up being spectacular (read: not 100 degrees and/or raining) and despite some heavy pieces of traffic and the worst parking situation I have ever seen in my life (not kidding), we made it onto the beach by the early afternoon.

I was midway through my first dive through a breaking wave when it occurred to me that the beaches of the Atlantic Ocean are the single place where I’m happiest. As I popped out of the backside of that first wave, only to nearly be clobbered by a second, more powerful wave, I was at my most content.

The beach, in my humble opinion, brings the best of the world to one place. I’m not talking about people of course; many of the people I see at the beach are of my least favorite variety; however, it stands as a mark of the enormity of the beach’s grandeur that I rarely, if ever, notice all the unsavory characters. No, I’m referring to the raw power, vastness, and thrill of the open water merging with the quiet calm of a sandy beach and the rhythmic sounds of the tide. There is simply no better place to frolic, run, sleep, eat, or endanger your life.

As I continued my dominance of the waves, I tried to take it all in. The smell of salt water, the sun-warmed sand, the churning of the ocean. I was reminded fully of why full-time jobs and non-coastal cities suck. I embraced that unique, chilly tingle that courses through your body after each trip through a wave. I thought about all that and vowed to always live by a coast, make regular visits to the beach, and never lose sight of the best bits of life.

As I pounded through the all-you-can eat crabs and corn that night, I was content knowing that I had spent one more day in the good old Atlantic and overwhelmingly excited about getting back to the world’s best beaches next weekend in the good old Garden State. And life was good.

Not so great for the crabs though.