Life's a Beach

The life of a beach-goer is an interesting and unique fellowship had by all that love the sun, the ocean, and the sand. There are, of course, different kinds of beach-goers. There are ones that show up with umbrellas and chairs, others with coolers full of beer and Italian water, or plastic baggies full of fruit and cheese. There are the ones that show up in big floppy hats, equally large sunglasses and frilly little wraps. The ones with frisbees and footballs, cameras, backpacks, boogie boards, and kites. The European men with tiny white hotel towels, speedos to match and cigarettes. Some of my favorites are these people:

The ones that bring everything they need to set up camp in a tight-knit circle of umbrella love everyday, all day long. You can never miss them. The most loyal of all beach-goers.

Typically, when I make my way to the beach it remains as uncomplicated as possible. Mismatched bikini-check, sunscreen-check, towel-check; camera, wallet, phone, music--if I remember-check; snorkel and mask-check. And then I remember I have to put on clothes, wear shoes, and should probably grab some water.

This week is Spring Break and my visiting best friend has been gone since Tuesday. I am already antsy with how to fill my day and decided to walk 6 miles to a further beach up North because I am sick of paying for parking when I choose to drive there, and my "hop-skip and jump" of a beach wasn't up my alley. My mission: photos before high sun, shells, and raspberry mango sorbet...


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