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Writer's pictureAngela Hertica

Beach Day.

The third installment of my travel writing.


A quick little get-away with friends to the beach.


Beach Day.

7/22/19


The sounds of the beach. All around me. The smells. The feeling it brings. To my skin and mind. Surround me. Embrace me.


The edges of the striped umbrella flapping quickly in the wind.

The soft rhythmic call of the waves breaking on the shore.

Far away sounds of children’s laughter and grownup’s conversations.


The small waves roll over my feet. Clear. Chilling my toes. I walk further and further out.

The water is cold. Salty. Pulling sand from underneath my feet. Disappearing with each outgoing bit of tide. But once in the water. It cools my skin. And I slide out to sea. Then back to the shore. As the ocean reaches for the city and retreats away.


Even when I walk away. Leave the water and it’s reach to dry on my towel. My skin is sticky with salt. With the marks of the sea.


And the sand’s warmth radiates through my towel. As the sun bakes my back. I slowly warm under the California sun.


The wind blowing. Going over my back acting like a wind break. Wisps of hair that escaped my pony tail, tickling my face.


And I breathe in. And out. Slowing. Till I can almost taste what it is to be relaxed. Making a memory. Of this time. Of this place.



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