That is how the conversation began; three years ago, spending and entire day at the beach was little more than a boring concept to me; which is peculiar because I have always loved the beach in different ways throughout my life. Case and point, when I was just five years old, my family would have regular outings to the beaches in New England. I was told my father would take us and toss us into the ocean and force us to swim. I can't validate that story per-say, but I know each and every one of the seven of us, has a passion for being near the ocean.
I can name every beach in the Massachusetts and New Hampshire area. You would be hard pressed for me not to know the major lakes, but I can't attest to knowing all of them.
As of this moment, I am sitting on the beach at Plumb Island, in a lesser know area, that makes summers on the beach in New England feel more like you are on an island resort. Rarely are there more than twenty people setting up camp here, which gives it that remote feeling you only get when you have discovered a hidden pearl. Most people who are well traveled would likely understand this description without going into details; it's the kind of experience you often can't repeat or recreate because of what you perhaps did or who you encountered during that fantasy-like visit-- and you wouldn't necessarily want to repeat it, as it gets filed away as one of the most cherished experiences in your life. That is the kind of place that this is. the longitude and latitude of this very moment are 42 degrees 42' 15" North and 070 degrees 46' 58" W. That should be read forty-two degrees forty-two minutes, fifteen-seconds North and 070 degrees-forty six minutes-fifty-eight seconds West, of the equator and prime meridian.
And though it is only 71 degrees and a bit cool, today is the informant of summer arriving. What is nice about this day is, except for the occasional passer-byer, is that there is virtually no one on the beach perhaps 10 people at this very moment- truly creating the feeling of being on a remote island. Where on Earth could there be a better place to be than right here right now. OK so it would have been nice to have a fleece to get that perfectly cozy feeling, but oh-uh what a feeling, as an old theme from Toyota comes to mind.
Rounding the experience off is the popular beach garb from Tommy Bahama; this supplier of furniture and other beach amenities has figured what hundreds of millions of manufactures have not. I want to have everything I desire when I go to the beach (a cooler, beverage holder, phone pocket etc, within reach oh and by the way, I would like to be comfortable too. Nice that someone has figured it out.
Back to the original point. Less than three years ago, you couldn't get me to spend more than a couple of hours on a beach. Don't get me wrong, I love going there but, honestly, what is there to do? Sit? Nah! That's not for me. But all that has changed, now when I go to the beach, I want to pack a cooler with a full days provisions, including: fruit, some sort of mixed greens, a bean dip, possibly a sandwich, beer or wine, chips or pretzels, plates, utensils, cups (or wine glasses- don't like plastic) and gotta have chocolate in some form. I am planning to stay for the whole day so I try to anticipate when the people are coming and going, and how to avoid that. Yea, I love staying at the beach all day and enjoying the sunset-- as a photographer, a good sunset alone, can make the day worth any effort you have to put into it.
After returning from Colorado, this unplanned beach run is a welcome transition. Since I have returned I have been preparing for the construction project, doing a corporate retreat for an organization in New York, and catching up on those never-ending bills that piled up while out of town. I am beginning to feel like it helps to keep the mental wheels spinning around up there; it feels like the cassette on the rear wheel of a bike, constantly in motion and shifting gears. Something's definitely different, I can feel that mental shift of the tectonic plates organize themselves.