Pacifically Speaking

I miss the ocean. The Pacific ocean. The Atlantic doesn't do it for me.

Last night I couldn't sleep, so I began to think of the ocean. I nodded off happily and have been thinking about it all day.

I am constantly struck by its size. As you look out, it seems infinite. But somehow, I never feel small as I stand on the shore. I feel interconnected with nature. It is a different kind of big. Manhattan is big, but it is steel and glass. It is somehow...inorganic. Next to the Pacific I feel as though I am part of nature. My toes sink into the sand. I listen to the in/out of the waves. It is totally hypnotic.

The last time I went to the beach I taught Cass how to catch sandcrabs. Sandcrabs are the ultimate hidden treasure of the beach. Stand with your back to the water, as the waves circle in and out around your ankles. Look at the wet sand, there are bubbles that froth out of it. With the next wave surge forward dig your fingers into the sand, and as the water pulls back rake them forward and scoop up a handful. There will be little creatures, the size of bumblebees, crawling in your hands. Be quick, because they immediately dive off your fingers, burrowing back into the sand, never to be seen again.

I learned some important lessons at the beach:

Never feed seagulls, they will poop on you later (true story).

When body surfing, take the last wave in the set (they usually come in threes or fours). Otherwise you will get sucked underwater, only to emerge sputtering.

If you do manage to get sucked under a wave, ride it out. But don't open your eyes. It is beautiful, but it hurts (Like life, no?).

The best lesson I learned was one of growing up. I learned it at the tender age of 4. My father took me down to the beach, but I didn't have my suit with me. We were playing on the swings (State beaches are like parks, lots of amenities) and I saw a young girl (maybe 2) running around with nothing but a diaper on. I immediately started to peel off my clothing (I was never big on clothing anyway) but my father stopped me. You can't, he told me. Why? I wanted to know. She is, I pointed out indignantly.

You're a big girl now, he said. You don't get to be a baby anymore.

Thus, I sadly learned that big girls keep their clothes on. It still bums me out.

But the beach never does.

Post Script: I found organic chicken nuggets!!! This does not bum me out!!!

Also, no pictures. Took too long to load. Stop whining.