Sun, Surf & Sand

It’s not so far away now, an end is in sight; a plan is in place.

When our doors reopen and we can venture outside, I’ll be grabbing my board, my BBQ, and my family and friends. We’ll head to my favourite beach, to the tang of salt air and the feel of warm sand between our toes. We’ll spread our towels on the shore, unpack our picnic baskets and prepare the fire-wok for an evening BBQ.

We’ll strip off our clothes; dump them carelessly in piles of colour and race to the waves. We’ll splash through the water, make rainbows with the spray, and laugh in the sunlight. I’ll jump onto my board and paddle through broken waves, bouncing as I crash through them. I’ll relish the feel of the sea gliding through my fingers, the pull on my muscles and the salt water washing over my face, until I reach the deeper surf. There, I’ll let the sea rock me and calm my anxious feelings, soothe the tension in my muscles, ease the worry from my mind that was planted there by months of restrictions.

I’ll watch the waves roll in. Then, I’ll turn to race them, paddling hard before I’m caught, picked up and thrown forward, challenged to stand. I’ll accept the challenge, push my body to its feet, look to the shore and grin with the exhilaration of it all. I’ll feel the power of the Atlantic Ocean buoy me up, thrust me forward and dare me to keep my balance. I’ll tumble and splash beneath the salt water, plant my feet in the wet sand as waves crash against me. I’ll pull my board to heal on its leash, jump aboard, and do it all again, countless times.

When my arms ache with effort and my face hurts from grinning, I’ll turn my back on the sea for a break. I’ll carry my board to the dry sand, flop down on a towel and let the warm sunshine caress my skin as I listen to the chatter of my friends, the call of the gulls, and the shouts of my children playing in the dunes. I’ll answer the call of my grumbling belly with a hotdog and ice-cream from the café; then lick melting trails of rum and raisin from my waffle cone. I’ll crunch the tip with pleasure. Once sated, we’ll all race back to the waves to splash and play, wash the ice-cream from our faces. The sugar sweetness will be replaced with the salty flavour of ocean.

My boys and I will catch broken waves on body boards, racing to the shore line on the last of their energy. We’ll laugh as the sand grinds the bottom of our boards bringing us to a halt while the sea washes over our backs. I’ll turn to watch my partner master his board and get to his feet. I’ll laugh at the surprised look of pleasure on his face before he falls into the ocean’s embrace. His excitement will reignite mine and I’ll join him on the waves with my own board, waving to my boys as I ride wave after wave towards the shore.

When the sun starts to sink in the dome of the sky, we’ll kindle flames in the fire wok. We’ll pull BBQ food from our picnic baskets and drinks from our cooler chests. The sizzle and hiss of food meeting hot metal will release the delicious aromas of tea time. My mouth will water and my tummy will grumble again as I hand plates to my friends and family. My partner will share out sausages and burgers, slightly crusted with charcoal. Salad will be spooned onto plates. A contented silence will envelop our group.

The children will hunt for sticks to poke at the flames once the food has been served. My hair will dry in salty strands. My smile will crack the crust of sea that’s dried upon my face. We’ll sit back, wrapped in towels, comfortably spent from a day of pleasurable exertion, chatting about our plans for the future as we watch the colours of the sky dance on the undulating water. We’ll feel blessed and lucky to be alive, grateful for the beautiful world we are a part of, happy to be building a future far brighter than yesterday.