Beach

There is something about the beach.  The drive is long, the kids are singing (at the top of their lungs) and I often wonder about half way, why we are going and then we arrive...  Mysteriously all the squabbils of the car ride vanish and the smell of dog vomit (don't ask) is washed away and as the rain sprinkles down, the kids rush madly around looking for bugs, shells, and find some bizarre looking sea slug.  David and I walk behind he is the spotter, the finder of all things dead and discusting to share with the kids.  We talk and watch. This year we added Polly who runs between us all, chasing her frisbee for all who throw it.  She stays close herding us together when others approach.  She never sits, standing at attention, always watching, always on the job. Then its back to the car, my turn to drive and by the Seaside city limits all eyes, except mine are closed and the drive seems short and peacful in the quiet. 

Then I realize again why we go.  The beach gives us all a chance to breathe in our own way,  for Sophia its writing in the sand words for others to see, for Logan its finding magical weapons and jumping and twisting and landing in the soft sand, for David its exploring and treasure hunting, and for me its a chance to just watch.