Once that breeze hit me, I knew that I was never going back; back to the heat, the sweat, the tans, the obnoxious and drunk tourists, the big casinos, the night life, and all the commotion that Las Vegas has to offer. That’s what I realized on my trip to the beach. Those many deep shades of blue accenting each other in just the perfect way, the coolness of the water hitting your legs, the goose bumps rising up once it does, the rush of the waves as you struggle to make your way against them, the texture of the sand against your toes: These are all reasons why the beach is my home.
QUARTER FINALIST 2012 TEEN TRAVEL WRITING SCHOLARSHIP
With packing out of the way, my family set out on a nine hour road trip that seemed to last an eternity. Anxiety building up in our blood streams, dreams of a vast and endless body of water awaiting our arrival, and all the while dreading the ride in that 1992 Honda Odyssey. It was a long ride, and watching the dry and uninhabitable desert isn’t exactly what keeps one awake. We drove, and drove, and drove; We drove past mountains, we drove past towns, and we drove past gas stations and finally I could tell we were getting close. The smell of the sea was making its way through my nostrils and the coolness of the air was all I needed. The waiting, the suffering, and all the anxiety that had overcome me being cooped up in that minivan was about to make its way out of my body and into the ocean’s arms. There was nothing I had longed for more than this. We pulled into the driveway of our newly rented and elegantly decorated beach house and unpacked the luggage.
Suitcases piled into the living space. They lined the wall. Green suitcases, red ones, black ones, and even polka dot ones were slowly, but surely, filling the house. Once everything AND everyone was unloaded, we scattered. We scattered trying to find the best room. We pushed each other and shoved each other out of the way. It was a race against time, a race against every sibling you had to get the coolest room with the best view of the ocean. Yes, the ocean… that is why we came in the first place. We wanted to explore the great body, to caress its every curve, to indulge ourselves in all of its entirety, and that is exactly what we did.
Dressed in cut off jean shorts, a navy blue plaid shirt that showed just the right amount of skin, and my favourite pink sandals, I made my way to the beach. I approached it as if I hadn’t seen it for a thousand years. I ran. I jumped right in. I wanted to feel my feet sinking into the ocean floor and taste the salt the water had to offer. With that first step, everything became clear. It was all simple. Me, the ocean, the waves, and everything lurking in its midst were one. From then on, the ocean was my calling. I couldn’t stay away from it. I played for hours. I layed at the very edge for hours as the waves brushed past me. This place was my new home. It gave me something I had been missing out on the previous years of my life. It gave me peace, happiness, and the warmth of love that encircled my family. That summer, when I got to really feel the life in a single wave, is the summer I learned what real joy was and where it came from. Thank you Oceanside, California.
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