Sandbridge

We slipped out early and drove east.  There was no specific destination in mind; we only knew that if we went far enough, we would find a beach, and if we found a beach, we could play in the ocean and sand.

Sandbridge beach fronted the houses people use to escape the rest of their world; the houses they bother to name, located on streets with nautically themed titles and no defined edges because the sand creeps in on everything, encroaching on driveways, sidewalks, inside spaces, porches, and the scrubby little plots that might be lawns in any other area.  As soon as we arrived, we knew our time there would be limited.  Dark clouds stretched across the northern horizon, from the houses and hotels to some undetermined spot far out in the ocean.  If you watched long enough, you could see the flashes of lightning in their dark bellies.  I dropped my bag and ran for the water.

The slope is shallow, and by the time I was deep enough to get my shoulders under while standing, people on the beach were tiny specks.  I let myself drift back in with waves, and saw a large school of fish coming down the shore towards me.  Waist-deep, I could see the rougher texture they gave the surface of the water for dozens of yards in every direction.  The closest edge was only a few feet from me, and I stood still, waiting for the moment when I would be in the middle of a frenzied flurry of fins, but whenever they got close enough to recognize my presence, a great wave went through their bodies and the closest edge of the school surged away from me again, eyes wide at the surface of the water as they roiled over one another.  Above me, the edge of the clouds gave sharp delineation between the clear skies to the south and the storm approaching from the north.

Some people began slowly gathering their things, knowing the end of their day at the beach was imminent, but their pace belied how little they had to travel to shelter.  We had brought very little, and it only took us a moment to shoulder our bag, pick up our sandals, and start back towards the boardwalk that jutted into the sand like a taunting tongue.  I didn't even get to fly a kite, but perhaps that was for the best.  We had been granted a brief break in the weather for our little adventure before driving back through the storm to the hotel, and dinner.  Something with seafood.

photo credits for this post are The Girl's