Long exploring rides around a beachside community on a rickety old bike, with three blonde boys cruising in front of me, I had the pleasure of watching their discovery of what a bike really means when you are 8, 11 and 6 years old….FREEEDOM. Utter freedom. Once you discover it, you are hooked. Riding again alone, after quite a break, I too, discovered freedom of my own kind. Freedom to think, mull, contemplate and just “be” for a few moments in a space where no one needed me. I have missed my bike.
Beaches on cloudy days = treasure hunting…shells, rocks (smooth and flat only), “interesting” finds, and the raw pleasure of seeing boys being boys…just add sand, sticks and space to run.
Baby girl at the beach, trying everything out again, for the first time, sand between toes, unexpected waves, the joy of a pool, trying to keep up with her brothers. The first delicious bites of new season fruit. Watermelon running down your chin. A cool gin and tonic when the sun finally starts to set and the kids have finally crashed, exhausted by the thrilling combination of sun, salt air, waves, space and less rules. Poems written in the sand. Gorgeous books about gorgeous places, for lazy afternoon dreaming in the sun.
Well, that was then and this is now…back in the city, children ready for school tomorrow, work tomorrow, deadlines looming, bills to pay, lunches to make, bags to pack, laundry, dishes piled up, the real start to the real year in the real world. I can still taste the sea on my lips.