—Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf, trans. Basil Creighton (via proustitute)
(Source: librar-y)
Treat your ears right. Listen to this album.
Living near the ocean is one of the earliest recognized delights of my heart.
My husband and I have lived in various places since we got married almost 8 years ago. The majority of those places have been inland, and even fewer have been near bodies of water that you would want to swim in.
Two years ago, we moved to the coast of South Carolina. Upon arriving, it was dreary, cold, raining Spring. The beach was my last thought. I was looking forward to being able to take my then 5 year old and 1.5 year old to the park again! They were developing cabin fever, and so was I. I was searching online for YMCAs with pools, water-parks, canoeing down very safe, calm rivers - anything to get them outdoors when the rain stopped!
One day, my husband nonchalantly said, “Man. I can’t wait to go to the beach when it gets warmer. I’ve never lived by the beach!”
Right then, I realized what was amiss. I realized I’d forgotten about the beach. I realized, most importantly, I’d forgotten the deep love in my heart for the beach.
Since going to the beach for the last two summers, I have never again forgotten about it. Here are some, but not all, specifics:
I love getting sandy. I love holding my children after a day at the beach and smelling their brinish hair. I love looking into their faces and seeing tiny speckles of sand all over their perfect skin. I love the soft sound of the ocean when waves aren’t breaking. I love sitting on the sand and feeling my body soak up warmth into every pore that touches it. I love sitting in the sun and feeling like if I don’t get some relief in two seconds I might explode, right before a cloud shades me and gives me some relief. I love the tide pools that form and catch starfish and sand dollars inside of them for us to investigate. I love the care my children take to make sure we never harm any sea creatures. I love that when we’re at the beach, my children aren’t distracted by man-made things and technology, but are genuinely interested in the world around them and explore it. I love kissing my husband’s salty lips.
BEACH LOVERS, A POEM
There’s nothing here to do
Rest; relax; there’s nothing for you
You cannot lift a finger
Because, because of the vast blue
You mustn’t lift a foot
You must stay and rest your head
You’re only allowed to look
Out from your sunned, sand-bed
Think not of one care you have
Think not of an angle to flee
Be calm, don’t count the time
Lie still in our reverie
*
Sometimes I dream of the mountaintops
Sometimes I dream of the sea
Sometimes I dream of a farmer’s crops
And what it all means for me
Sometimes I dream of the shining sun
Sometimes I dream of the cold
Sometimes I dream of having fun
and what I’ll be like when I’m old
Sometimes I dream in brightest colors
Sometimes I dream of you
Sometimes I dream of sisters, brothers
And when a dream came true
how beautiful is the early evening bird’s call
when a spring rain took nearly a day, but not all
they fly out of their homes like the children below
they flip and they soar; they chuckle and they bow
they relish the slight gift they’re given for now
searching once more for an earthworm in the ground
as the rain starts again, they lift up; sing goodbye
and they, with bravest hearts, head home through grey sky
—Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry dated 11 October 1929 (via proustitute)
