Each year, as summer starts to wane, I try to be fully cognizant of all a beach day offers. This summer season has not been resplendent with beach days. After a July filled with summer school days, much of my August was spent traveling. Yesterday, however, was the kind of beach day I want to remember.
I had to park blocks away and it was fully ten minutes before I arrived on the sand, but it is always worth the walk. I passed a group of young men who were playing wiffle ball across Cottage Place, taking up some precious parking places. I parked in East Bumble and passed them on my trek. They were good-natured and enjoying their own kind of summer fun.
Once I got onto the sand and schlepped to a suitable locale, then slathered myself with suntan lotion, I was ready to lie there in peace for awhile. I made myself take note of the sound of waves crashing, the feel of the sun on my skin, the way the cool breeze tossed my hair. I listened to the voices of children playing, the admonitions of mothers to their kids to be mindful of others on the beach, music, seagulls, planes towing banners flying overhead – all of the sounds of summer at the beach.
As summer days become more precious by their impending scarcity, I want to wrap these memories in a safe place to be pulled out when summer slips away. In September, I will have little need for this. The days are usually still warm and I might get a weekend day or two at the beach still. October tends to bring with it the colors of autumn which distract with their splendor. November brings the reality of bone-chilling winds oftentimes, but the holiday season’s approach may keep my mind off the stark reality of winter breathing down our necks. December brings celebrations which can help to keep the blues at bay.
Then comes January and the blank page can sometimes offer me a renewed sense of purpose in my life and in my work. February will bring a new grandchild this time around and the doldrums will be on hold. Eventually, however, especially when we have a very inclement winter, the relentless cold, dark days take hold of me and that is when I need memories. I need to be able to conjure up that blissfully peaceful summer beach day in all its glory. Once again, I will quote Camus, “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.” I need to remember that day and know that summer days will come again.