I love beach living.
It’s the place that’d first taught me simple living and how to just be. There is no need to”do” anything at the shore. And that’s its beauty. You read, sunbathe, nap.
God, the naps. Is nothing better than sand cushioning your sillily tired body, with waves lulling you to sleep?
And you read. Those captivating novels you never can devote enough concentrated time. And those glossy magazines that stack up by your door.
I love the space to breathe that beach living provides. Everyone is kind, not in a rush.
It’s where exercise is a leisurely bike ride or stroll on the beach. Where dinner is fresh and gloriously simple, firing up a grill for white corn and yummy eats. breakfast is anything you didn’t have to cook.
Beach living provides a universal stamp of time. Its not, “when I was a kid” or teen or adult. The continuity of this life sails on, and years no longer denote change. They symbolize constancy.
Maybe its from the the visits to the same restaurants that may have never had good food, but had panache and good memories. Or the gentleness of routine of the shore: awake, eat, beach, lunch, beach, read, bike, eat, and evening stroll. Rinse, and repeat. Maybe for my family its the annual bemoanment of my great aunt’s property, sold 30 years ago, altered now by wealth and 2 floods. Each year we cry “couldn’t you all have found a way to have kept it”, despite knowing how the story goes.
Beach living is beautiful. Its simple. If it sounds idyllic, that is because it is.
No matter the years, no matter what friends and family rotate into our vacation week, this life is renewing.
Beach living is the
best brings out our best.