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August 25, 2012 / windlessly

California: Beach

I love going to beaches. Absolutely love it. Where else can you be serenaded by the rushing, pounding surf, be afflicted by a childish inner spirit to run sprinting into an incoming wave, only to be beaten back amid a rush of joy and laughter? I had a great time going to Beach Day with my cousin and her church. Not only was it a lot of fun to hang out with a great group of people, but it was relaxing and refreshing.

Louis hard at work grilling

 

I remember standing on the shore, on the wet sand, and just trying to take it all in. The surge and ebb of the water, the rhythm of the waves that came as easily as breathing, the mighty rush of gallons upon gallons of water crashing into each other, tumbling over one another, running circles on the sand. I was but a puny observer standing on the shore, taking in the magnificence of a great body sighing and lapping at the hot sand.

 

I could stand for hours and just investigate the patterns of the waves. I guess I didn’t pay attention in earth science class, but I was under the impression that high and low tide only came once or twice in a day. But there clearly was a pattern of high and low waves, a repetition of surge, mixed fall back, weak return, and finally the next surge. I love how waves roll- tumbling upon its own existence, as if water was clumsy enough to trip over like humans. I love how the receding waves crash headlong into the next, creating a torrent of white froth that sweeps across your feet and drags you toward the depths. I love the waves that sweep at you sideways along the beach, a result of receding waves that have nowhere to go but across the small bays that are created in the sand. I love how the wet sand crumbles beneath your feet as the wave claws at your toes, creating a mini pool of muck as a trail of white bubbles lead from your planted stance to the ocean.

 

The details, mixed with the magnitude of the ocean… a vastness so profound that it can be paralyzing. But the wet sand is like an ephemeral canvas- fifty pairs of brushing feet painting at the same time, running walking skipping and playing along the beach. There’s a sense of urgency when you know your creation will only last a short while, before the next wave comes and swallows it whole, but then again there was always an captivating appeal to Etch A Sketch too.

Sand art.

“Apple worm” selling for $45 million

More sand art, but not for long.

 

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