Day at the Beach

What is more joyful on a hot summer day than to be at the beach? Hurrican Earl brought bigger than usual waves. Three French-speaking surfers caught the same wave I did (on a boogie-board) and we dashed through the froth and flowed to shore. Ellen packed a lunch; Lynn brought an umbrella; and we baked and swam. The waves pounded us, ice-cold against our hot skin. The seagulls broke into our food bag, dragging our bag of perfect local potato chips into the surf, sending us searching for the bag, way down the shore, slapping in the waves.  The man and woman with the radio finally left. The tide moved in until it reached our blanket and we left.


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