I grew up in Northern California about 30 mins from the beach. As soon as I had a drivers license I spent every extra moment at the beach. My senior year was almost entirely at the beach. I loved the packed beaches with herds of people to watch and the private beaches where I never saw another person.
I could spend hours floating in the water, buoyed by the salt water. I love body boarding, surfing anything really. As kids we loved to spend time being pounded by the waves until we were exhausted then laying on the hot sand until we thawed out and could go back for more.
A few years ago before the divorce my ex and I went to St Johns for an anniversary since it had long been a dream of mine. It was like living in a post card. I loved the mountains, jungles, beaches. There wasn’t a ugly spot anywhere on the Island. I snorkeled for hours and floated the rest. I was up before the sun and on the beach by myself so I could watch the sun rise, unwilling to miss a single moment. A highlight was swimming with the turtles in Turtle Bay. This picture of me following a turtle is the last time I wore my favorite bracelet. It’s now somewhere on that ocean floor, a part of the reef. On the far side of the island is a lovely walking path up to the top of the cliffs, it made for some very dramatic pictures. You cross a beach that is covered with white mounds of dead coral.
I feel so landlocked in Georgia. Now I know I’m not as far inland as I could be. Half a days drive and I will end up at in a beach somewhere and thats doable for me. But I know my happy peaceful place will be to one day live where I can see it out my kitchen window, maybe if I’m lucky even hear the surf when my window is open.