There is nothing like laying on the sand, listening to the waves. During naptime on our last day at the beach, I stole away for thirty minutes, and the effect was like anesthesia or something– a space past sleep, and devoid of any conscious thought. Like hypnosis, only salty. Coming out of the stupor took time and effort, but left me deeply refreshed, if a little dumbfounded.
The fact that this kid from Iowa has such a visceral connection to the ocean still surprises me. Maybe it is a genetic connection to my great-great grandparents, who traveled the seas to come here, or maybe it is their Norske ancestors before them. All I know is that those thirty minutes alone made the whole trip feel worthwhile. As I passed by the throngs of daylong chair-dwellers on my way back to my family, I wondered how in the world they ever get up and go back to their lives.