The Old Men

Hey, we're back! Had a fabulous time. Turns out that if the Little Man isn't around, vacations inspire me to write things in my head. So, here's the first of several posts courtesy of North Carolina.

We visited the beach several times because, hey! We were on an island, and it was close. Being a white girl - key word WHITE - I don't tend to be much of a beach bunny. Just looking at the summer sun causes my skin to crisp and, conversely, I hate the smell and feel of sun tan lotion. So I tend to hibernate in the air conditioning in the summer, waiting for the blessed other three seasons where a girl can go out-of-doors without being baked alive.

Our first trip to the beach was supposed to be a sunset stroll through the surf. It was sunset, and we did walk through the surf, but the Atlantic had other ideas than to just docilely tickle our ankles. By the time we were done with our little walk we'd both been splashed up to chest level by several rogue waves. The sea seemed just a bit pissy that evening, roiling and choppy and petulantly slapping the shore with strong waves now and again. Showing its muscle to the Island that it just missed getting the smackdown from hurricane Ophelia.

Subsequent trips were in the morning. Being a water lover (and not a sun worshipper) Mr. Me and I spent the entire time playing in the shallows. The Atlantic was feeling more benevolent, maybe a little playful. Like my Grandpa playing "Eee-hawww" (his version of 'gotcha'). We walked around in the water, picking up shells, standing up to the surf. I stopped counting the number of times the Old Man in the Sea knocked me on my ass. He would catch me just off guard and send an extra strong wave to push me into the sand. We ended up soaking and wet and exhausted and exhilarated, with suits full of boulder-sized grains of sands. Man, I love playing with the ocean.

To me, oceans have distinct personalities. Hailing from a landlocked state, I'm not much the expert, but I've visited four and whenever I visit an ocean I just can't keep personifying adjectives from springing into my head. I must say, I'm not a huge fan of the Atlantic. So much anger, and crappy Florida beaches. The North Carolina beach was lovely, but the Florida Atlantic beaches are harsh, with course sand and choppy, cold water for the most part. I like Florida beaches on the Gulf side much better. Water so laid back you can envision Jimmy Buffet staring out over it and writing Grapefruit, and lovely, soft beaches. I've only been to the Pacific once, but I think Neptune must live there. It's very powerful and stern. (Neptune's younger, less straight-laced brother must live in the Atlantic - same feel, less "umph")

My very favorite ocean is the Caribbean. It's beautiful and clear and blue, and it could very well be run by mermaids. The surf is low-key, and the beaches are breathtaking, dazzling white and soft as the Little Man's behind.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. . .

All this ocean talk is making me want to go back Right Now! So I'm stopping. Stay tuned for more vacation snippits!