There is no tan cabana boy delivering me all inclusive drinks beneath a white linen canopy, nor a spa attendant giving a massage. This beach is no wider than an airbus wing which could deliver me to a white sandy beach seen on northern cubicle screen savers. I was drawn to my private beach, thus I call it. Usually I find myself alone here, an unfound local treasure.
Tiny waves splash about every second, clouds variable under a light blue haze. It is cool, yet warm, my favorite temp. A plane climbs in altitude, I hear a bike trek further into the distance. The mountains across this body of water are stunning, always. I never tire of this view. A mom and her son have joined me, and while immersed in the moment I had not realized the little boy was now naked. I am not a mom, how do you know the age this deems inappropriate, well in this society anyway? Besides winter months it would be so freeing and easier to be naked all the time, but perhaps my bitterness toward bras is a topic for another post.
I am eating a banana pondering its journey to reach my claws. One of my favorite foods these days, I savor every bite. Feeling run down on this day off, I went out for bananas and a Redbox and ended up here, completely relaxed, taking in nature. I find myself following my desires, my heart, the moments versus the “should do” list. It is so much more peaceful and brings alive life’s preciousness.
My toes caress the non beach sand aka: 90% dirt, as I inch off the tree stump I was perched, focusing my view at nearly water level, to sit in the sand. A tiny bug tickles my arm hair, I hear just one bird. Two elderly woman just arrived with matching haircuts of grey and what appears mojitos behind the plasticware in hand. One has 80’s style bright red sunglasses on. They are adorable. Three women on this beach from different eras of their lives taking in the beauty, water and sunshine. How special moments like this are squished between life’s to do lists and obligations. I do not need plans on a Friday night anymore to feel whole.
Moments like this fill my jar.
4 thoughts on “Reflections By The Water”
Some of my very favorite places in my past and present are those that many would find quite boring. As a child, it was in the hammock that hung between the two enormous trees in my grandparents backyard, where the sap occasionally left you sticky and smelling like pine; or, in my grandparents attic when it was raining and I couldn’t go in the hammock, where I investigated steamer trunks from their immigration from Sweden in the early 1900’s where I would sit for hours and try on clothes and conjure up stories of what their voyage must have been like. These days, it is sitting on Charlie’s mother’s rocking chair, in front of the inverted birdfeeder, on a cold winter’s morning with a hot cup of coffee in hand, and simply watching nature’s beauty come and go. I think I love your beach too, although I’ve only been there tonight for the first time!! Love you Bean!
Britta, what lovely visualizations you shared, thank you! You are such a neat person! I am so glad you got to Sweden to perhaps learn more of their story and voyage. Maybe this winter I can join you sipping coffee and watching nature. Thanks for taking the time to read my blog!
I so love that beach. Thank you for introducing us. ❤️❤️
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We equally missed you there tonight!!