The Beach

I have a confession. I haven't wanted to go to the beach.
Yes, I said that.
How could the beaches here even slightly compare with those in Hawaii? I hadn't been able to muster up the courage to set myself up for such disappointment.
My children proved me wrong.
We found ourselves at Sandbridge running an errand for Gramma Judy. How could I possibly go to Sandbridge and not go to the beach? I knew where I was headed that morning and had mentioned it to the kids so they were suited up beneath their clothes but their lack of enthusiasm for hittin' the beach fueled my uncertianty. We parked and trudged through the sand without even taking towels 'cause everyone said they weren't getting in the water.
We got to the top of the last berm and saw the waves crashing into the shore.
Tara took a deep breath and surveyed the scene.

"Ahhhh! The smell of the ocean! Mom, I have missed that!!"

At that moment Tara and Big Guy began ripping off their clothes and disappeared into the murky water. How right she was. Later they came out splashing and happy and collapsed into the sand to begin digging in their continuous efforts to create a hot tub from a mere hole and the water that sneaks in.
I, too, had that wonderful feeling of calmness that washes over me in the presence of the ocean. The beautiful hues of blue dotted with black rocks and reef, palms and the glorious backdrop of the mountains was not there but the ocean remains a constant.
How could I have been so foolish?