Being fifty-something, I know life’s many things: a bowl of cherries, a box of chocolates, what you make it. Even Google know’s life’s a ball, a happy song, an adventure and … a beach.
Around this time each year, we take the ferry across the bay for a day trip to
invade our friends’ peaceful camping vacation visit some of our favourite people in the world. This year, we took the “other” scenic route around the bay and settled in for two nights and three glorious days with our friends.
With our little campervan nestled in the shade of towering gums, we set about updating each other on the year that was. Loosened by wine, our stories gave way easily … and long into the night.
The next day held:
- a lingering, early morning amble along the beachfront
- as the temperature nudged into the high thirty-somethings (Celsius), a slow wade out beyond the sandbar where we sank into the cool clear water and sat, with it lapping our chins, for what seemed hours)
- a leisurely wander back to camp for lunch
- as a summer storm brewed, a second trek beyond the sandbar from where we ogled the cool change thundering in across the bay while the gentle current swayed us back and forth, back and forth
- a scrumptious roast dinner (thanks J), more conversation and giggles while Mother Nature filled our sky with a cracking light show.
There’s nothing like time spent at the beach (especially with friends) for stripping back the layers, in all sorts of ways.
Reminding ourselves that life’s a beach.