I remember one time my mom moved us to Rancho Cucamonga. At that time there were more cows than people there and the wind if it moved at all blew stale, hot, manure smell at you. To say I hated it was probably an accurate statement. One day my boyfriend and his friends were headed on a drive and he invited me along. I was ever willing to get out of Dodge.
We ended up at Newport Beach on a day that was not particularly sunny or warm. I didn’t care though. I had not brought a bathing suit either but I also didn’t care. I went out up to my thighs in my skirt with only the surfers; willing to be subjected to the frigid water. It was so great just splashing away in the water. The boys all sat on the shore watching me joyously playing. The surfers with little to do, as the waves weren’t all that present, also watched me.
Usually my self consciousness would have me leery of so many eyes on me, but they seemed to be enjoying watching me as much as I was enjoying being in the water and in that moment it added to my pleasure instead of detracting from it.
Today I had no audience as I walked along the beach in the pouring rain. One woman sat outside her room for a bit. One man flew his kite, which I didn’t know you could fly in the rain. And otherwise it was just me and the rain and the waves. My toes were so frozen when I got back I had to put them in the sink under hot water for 5 minutes.
Worth it. Worth every minute of it.