I think I am with Amy on this one. Just about to head off there now. Thanks, Amy, for sharing your life with us.
Coming Home
“Why?” he replies.
He just doesn’t get it! I NEED to go. I am homesick.
“But you are at home…” he says.
Did I mention he doesn’t get it? He is used to it though. It is not the first time this has happened and he knows it won’t be the last.
“Well, get packing”, he says smiling.
“GIRLS… We are going! “
Annabelle and Penny do a happy dance in the lounge room as we begin to pack supplies for the days outing. Already my heart is singing.
Ten minutes later we are ready to go. Two-year-old Penny looks ridiculous. She has her swimmers on, her hat, her goggles over her eyes and her inflatable swim ring pulled up around her middle. Annabelle doesn’t look much different, but she has chosen a boogie board instead of the ring and is surfing down the patio stairs. I smile. I think they have my genes.
We pile in the car and begin the drive to the beach. It is only a forty minute drive from our house to the beach, but as I have spent most of my life only five minutes away, forty minutes seems like forever.
I grew up on the Central Coast of NSW. I was surrounded by the beach and beach culture. The beach was a place my family connected after a day of work and school. It was the place where I reflected on my life and found clarity when I needed it. When I was older, my brother and I used to walk on the beach together a few times a week and I loved the conversations we would share. I spent hours on the beach with my friends laughing, swimming, sharing stories and creating new ones. For me the beach, any beach, feels like home and sometimes I am over-whelmed by a need to be there and only there.
Finally, after approximately one hundred and eleven ‘Are we there yet?‘s”, we arrive. I open the door, step outside and breathe.
Oh salt air, how I love you.
I give thanks to the sun for its beams, to the waves for the beautiful music that rings in my ears, and to the sand for the way it shifts to accommodate the shape of my feet.
The kids are already building sand castles. I walk to the shore and dive into euphoria. I am home and I am grateful.
Comments:
Mark andersen commented on 15-Nov-2011 10:37 AM
I feel this so much at the moment, travelling in asia it's hard to find a beach like an Aussie beach, stingingly hot clean white sand, the scrii scrii scrii of feet tramping to ge to where we lay out out towels, the building anticipation as we approach
Amy Gill commented on 15-Nov-2011 02:57 PM
Thanks for your comment Mark. Nothing beats it!
Catherine commented on 15-Nov-2011 09:52 PM
I feel exactly the same about the beach Amy. I too grew up on the beaches of the Central Coast. MANY of the memories of my childhood & youth involve the beach. We would often go for an early morning swim before school, back again for an arvo walk & weekends
Lori Portka commented on 22-Nov-2011 10:31 AM
This is so wonderful! You have such a lovely way of writing that draws me right in. xoxo
the water, the sharp ntake of breath as the waves splash a little too high on the first swim of the season..... Pure magic, thanks for sharing
volunteering at the SLSC. The most magical sense of freedom and life energy exists at the beach. MUST get back there soon for a recharge. Just what I need. x