I’d never loved the beach much. We’d go during the summer occasionally but I was much more of a pool girl. Clear and clean water. No dangerous waves. No dirty sand. No wildlife, unless you count those kids. You know, the ones who splash everyone and push each other in until the lifeguard shames them and they go skulking back to their towels.
Anyways, I’d never liked the beach.
This started to change after a few trips to the Outer Banks where the sand is soft and almost white and the weather was always perfect. I still had my fear of drowning or getting eaten by something, and I hated the feeling of flip flops on my sand covered feet. But honestly, that’s the least of the discomforts to be experienced on a family road trip.
Of course, now I have to have a relationship with the beach because of my husband, Matthew. Born and raised in the smallish beach town Wilmington, NC, we spend at least a week there every summer. And the water isn’t always clear or clean. I’ve been beat up by waves when I dare to venture further than ankle-deep. And the sand is a minefield of broken seashells and dried seaweed. And then there was that jellyfish sighting I don’t like to remember. But watching Matthew watch our daughter love the cool water on her skin and hot sand on her feet made me realize that the beach is a part of him. As much as I make fun of him for always commenting on how high or low the tide is in the marshes, he’s not putting on townie airs. The beach is where he grew up, it’s where he became the man I married. I’d never loved the beach much but he always has. Here’s home through his eyes:
Through my eyes:
Locations: Fort Fisher, Wrightsville Beach, Southport, Downtown Wilmington, Kure Beach, and of course, Britts Donuts