My Day at the Beach

Hard to read but written in the sand around me: Daniel 2011.
The story of the beach and I.

In the third and final installment of my summer weekend series, I will tell you about my very first beach experience ever. I should also mention that, after all these fun excursions coupled with living in the sun baked desert of the Middle East, that I have a bit of a stroller tan. Have you heard of that? Said tan occurs when your shins and the inside of your thighs are rosier than the rest of your legs. It isn't an even spread over the top of the legs because, like many babies, I tend to sit frog style, so the sun is more evenly spread over my legs. Of course my face, arms and scar have been shielded due to stroller gadgets and what not, but the legs have taken on a nice summer glow.

Leading up to the epic beach day, I had wondered what all the hype was about. Are sand and sun really potential weapons of mass destruction? Am I really in danger of bites, burns and sand caked in yet-unknown crevasses? Are there bodies of water that churn more wildly than a pool of wailing babies? Are jellyfish, though they sound edible and look quite vapid, creatures that are actually mean and are meant to be avoided?

Apparently, yes.

Danger be darned, we were going to the beach anyway. Especially since we had a fan club awaiting us there including Bess, Dee and of course, Elan the brave. I will explain his fearlessness later in this post. 

The first part of the beach process involved coating me with some white cream called sunblock. I don't yet understand how a sheen of lotion could block the wrath of a whole star that dominates the solar system, but this is what people hope and do I'm told. And I was duly slathered.

Getting prepped for the sun

War paint applied. Now I'm ready for action.

Then we approached the water. And  I started to see how this type of water was vastly different than the sedate pool at Shalva. First of all, I couldn't see the end of this water, with the foreboding name of Mediterranean Sea. Secondly, it was not merely undulating with the antics of wave makers, but it was spinning in several directions. And then, as if this all wasn't enough, the water that had pounded forward onto the sand then rushed backwards, attacking me from all angles. As you can see in the photos, my initial reaction was one of due respect if not a touch of panic.

What the...???

Ok, as long as you don't let go this might be alright

Or not!

Mommy was really forcing the issue

The whole concept of the ground shifting beneath me was a tad unnerving. I guess that is where they get the expression "shifting sands." After prowling the water, but not getting too comfortable because of the jellyfish infestation, I was plunked onto the sand. Bess, ever the kindergarten teacher, mushed my hands into the sand since I was unwilling to do so myself. It was a messy affair, but since there was no going back I made my peace with the beach.

No, I did not put this stuff in my mouth. I know better than that.

And no I did not build this little mound.
I'm too new for such extravagances.

Elan is already a beach pro. Sure he has a couple years on me. But he loves the water and the adventure.

Elan brandishing a jellyfish carcass he harpooned.
Ok, well maybe it was already dead.

After the flurry of activity at the water's edge, we retreated to a safe and shaded spot further back. Here I learned about a few other beach benefits and the expression, a day at the beach. Ah yes, I can see why this beach thing can be a good idea.

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