...I would rise with the sun every morning and walk along the beach...I would spend every spare minute during the day searching for unique seashells, capturing images of the birds, the dunes, the grasses, the waves on my camera, feeling the sun kiss my shoulders, and cooling off in the surf...I would find a quiet spot to watch the sun set on the horizon..
...I would also have skin the texture of an old leather saddle. It took turning 50 to appreciate one dream NOT coming true.
But spending a week or two a year near the shore is just what I need to wash the clutter from my brain. Yesterday we visited Opal Beach near Pensacola. A beach lover's dream come true! Huge expanses of white sand speckled with shells and decorated with delicate grasses and short sections of wind-washed picket fences. The water was emerald green...crystal clear (you could see your feet)...and refreshing like a glass of iced tea on a summer day. We had the beach practically to ourselves except for a herd of lifeguards-in-training. Tom and I took a walk so far there wasn't another soul in sight - only the sea birds. Our footsteps were the only ones dotting the sand.
Before I was ready, it was time to go - the soft sunshine switched to "High Heat" - skin was turning pink and stomachs were growling. We'll squeeze at least one more visit in before heading back home to the hill country. But I'm thinking it's a good thing I don't live in a beach town.