August 6, 2009
Northern Bay Sands
Dearly Beloved felt a tinge of "gout" (or some similar affliction) this morning and decided that eight hours on his feet would be uncomfortable - so he called in sick.
I am on vacation. I don't do "vacation" well unless I physically leave town. So as the mercury and humidex climbed, we did just that. Dearly Beloved, the two Ts and I piled into our car, made quick pit stop for sunscreen, batteries and Tim Horton's "iced caps" (we're Canadian...what can I say?) then we hit the road.
For the next two hours we wound our way through Conception Bay North - Carbonear, Victoria, Salmon Cove, Ochre Pit Cove, Western Bay - before finally arriving at Northern Bay Sands, a glorious sandy beach northwest of St. John's.
We've been here for nearly three hours, but it only feels like three minutes. (Okay, so I'm actually posting this seven hours after I wrote it - just use your imaginations) Dearly Beloved and I have taken a long walk along the shoreline and he the Ts have wandered off individually and collectively to explore every cove, cliff, and cranny, returning to our spot in the sand to grab a drink, or a handful of grapes or a bit of junk food.
We've watched whales, people and tides and enjoyed the baby blue sky, sapphire water and the ever present wind, grateful to be out of the sticky, city weather. T1 has borrowed my clipboard and written a new song lyric, T2 has been snapping pictures all over the beach (including the picture of her brother's footprints which heads up this post). I've chased my floppy hat into the surf a couple of times - but who cares? - it is not like this is a fashion show.
I brought the clipboard with the intention of working on a piece of fiction I started years ago - a somewhat autobiographical piece that is set on this very beach. Problem is - the story is a sad one - born out of an untenable living situation, fueled by sad memories and connections to the past.
Those memories and feelings simply aren't there today. I am sitting here with 175 Bon Jovi tracks playing on my MP3 player, soaking up the sun and watching each wave kiss the shore, becoming higher and more intense as it prepares for the ancient consummation of high tide and I can't seem to focus on those things that may have been broken in my life.
Today is about the things that work - T1 and T2 walking along the shore together and talking like the best friends they have become. It is about MY best friend sitting next to me with T2's camera in his hand, hoping to sneak a picture of our kids as they come closer. It is about blue sky, white surf and grey sand. It is Jon Bon Jovi singing "Wild is the Wind" in my head as the stiff wind off the ocean sends my hat sailing toward the water - again.
Life is a beach - and I think I am finally on it.
We'll have to leave soon - we have that two hour drive going the other way to get home and Dearly Beloved has promised us dinner in Bay Roberts along the way.
Wishing you all a beach of your own.
Peace out.
Gina
Posts
