Sea Asides

September 26, 2013 at 8:03 am | Posted in Bun, Family, Giggles, Lollipop | 16 Comments
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

“Long before we saw the sea, its spray was on our lips, and showered salt rain upon us.” — Charles Dickens

When’s the last time you felt that lovely salty rain? Where’s the oddest place you found sand? And what’s the best treasure you brought home?

+++

S is for sea and sand and shells. See more S’s at Jenny’s.

Jenny Matlock

Beach Music

June 7, 2010 at 5:36 am | Posted in Family, Giggles, Lollipop | 21 Comments
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

About a year ago, we took Lollipop and Giggles to the beach for the first time.

We rented a house; stuffed swimsuits, sheets, suitcases, groceries, and our giant black Lab into the car; and drove to Dauphin Island, Alabama, where my parents joined us.

Jumping In
We spent a week dipping our toes into the chilly water, then retreating back to our canopied tent to escape the whipping wind. We gathered shells and wrote our names in the sand with driftwood. We ate homemade popsicles, cooked s’mores over a sunset campfire, and grilled fish plucked from the nearby gulf. We watched a storm blow through.

As we sampled fresh, flaky croissants from the local bakery, we marveled at the damage still apparent from Hurricane Katrina. We bought kites from one of the kitschy souvenir shops. We visited a nearby Civil War fort where, instead of Confederate soldiers, fire ants marched across the parade grounds.

We thought maybe we would take the ferry across the bay to the Florida side. But we napped and blew bubbles off the porch instead. Next year, we said. There’s always next year.

Taking Chances
You see, we planned to go back. We planned to make it an annual trip, a chance to relax and spend time with our family. A chance to sit, drink a cold beer, and watch the hermit crabs scurry into the surf. A chance to crack open a good book and read the whole thing with our feet buried in the warm sand.

But we missed our chance. We won’t be going back. This year or next year or the next.

Because the sand where my children built their first castle is now an oil-and-tar-slicked mess. Because the birds we shooed away from our peanut butter sandwiches have feathers coated with oil. Because the ferries have been replaced with ships transporting equipment, executives, and scientists.

Now and Then
Because each day 800,000 gallons of oil are spewing into the ocean. And no one knows how to stop it.

Next year, we said. There’s always next year. And now, there’s not.

Now, there’s wasteland instead of beach. Now, there’s crippled wildlife instead of a thriving ecosystem. Now, there’s despair instead of anticipation.

Now, there are only memories.

+++

Thanks to my friend Country-Fried Mama for telling me about the online “Love the Gulf” effort. Post your own Gulf memories through Deb on the Rocks.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.