The wind roars, whipping the blue panels of the beach umbrella back and forth where I recline beneath, shaded from the sun. My legs, one crossed over the other, are rough and grainy from the sand that clings to them.
I am doing absolutely nothing even though my iPhone with unread e-mail messages, and a good book reside in the beach bag that rests on the sand within easy reach at my side.
The rhymic sound of the waves breaking on the shore lull me into complacency. I sit and watch and listen, feeling the cool breeze off the sea blow across my skin and toss my hair.
A black crow perches on the top of an unopened umbrella to my right and caws.
The tall seeded grass on the dunes that dot the shore bend over with the wind.
A group of bare-chested men in the waves trudge slowly to shore with big steady and slow strides.
I remember my dad’s strong hand holding onto mine as we moved slowly through the waves and out to where the sea crossed my shoulders. My dad laughing, lifting me over the high waves. Never letting go.