I just returned from a week at the beach in Oak Island, NC. This was our fourth year vacationing there with my husbands family. The area is GORGEOUS. In years past it's been sad to leave there and leave the ocean behind. For some reason this year I seem to be having a really hard time accepting the fact that I am not there anymore. I keep concocting schemes in my head that would allow me to stay there forever. I can't stop myself from listening for the ocean.
My favorite part of vacationing at the beach, is waking up in the morning, stumbling for the coffee pot, pouring myself a cup of coffee and grabbing a book. I open the door, head to the closest chair, and sit back with a sigh of relief and start drinking my coffee. As I wake up, I crack open whatever book I happen to be reading, and read a few pages, sip my coffee and stare out to sea.
The return home is a jarring return to reality. I don't get broken in, there is no gradual entrance back into real life, the sounds of the highway nearby, the trains on the bridge, the sound of cars and the people that live around here screaming at their kids and rock music.