The waves meeting the shore…the breeze gently moving the clouds in the sky. The sun beaming proudly down on the white sand and the tanning crowds…”I am missing my solitary yellow pail!”
This is a memory from one of our trips to the beach house. I love going to the beach house! Just opening the door to the house and breathing in the fragrance, of this quaint little cottage by the sea, causes an explosion of memories to flood into my heart and head. The remnants of Coppertone and Sea and Ski lotions mixed with salty air have imprinted deeply throughout every corner of the house. I just have to pick up a bottle of Coppertone and breathe in to visualize the house wherever I am. The contrast of the little house against the typically blue sky is a sight to behold. The moving of the porch furniture, from the back room, through the doors to the porch is a priority. We remember fondly the old creaks and sounds associated with our childhood. The refrigerator, called Bertha, shaking wildly with each cycle that shook the house and the old rusty fan that squeaked as it oscillated. “Good Times!” The fashion parade of beach hats and the line of flip-flops just out the back door…”Good Times!”
It is rainy and cold here in my neck of the woods today…I was looking for a picture when I came across one of my favorites. The little yellow pail sitting alone on the brilliant white sand against the beautiful, ever-changing backdrop, of our beach. We have been trying for the past several years to escape our city life, without the children, and flee together to our home away from home. “One day!” We keep promising each other it will happen soon but our lives have changed so much that retreating is not an option. “Can’t decide if the word “retreating” has a meaning of falling back or a pleasant getaway.” Both definitions work, sadly, causing me a heavy heart. I yearn for the obvious getaway and refreshing of mind from schedules and obligations. The walks, with a scenic view, and laughter, over filled coffee cups, are just the start to a glorious day at the beach. Items for the time at the beach are stowed into bags and gather up and taken in hand. Set up on the sand…. Breathe in…Breathe out….Relax! The naming of the seagulls is part of the trip…Jonathon and Livingston are regular seagulls that visit every year. “I know it is probably not the same ones…” My parents once pointed out that Jonathon and Livingston were hungry. “It was a trap to see who was paying attention and remembered their literature.” The names stuck! Some of the other names were Monty, Python, Harry, Ron, and a group of seagulls were the “Knights Who Say Ni“. “Good Times!”
The solitary little pail sitting in the picture was a afterthought. I had been taking pictures of the cousins playing and we were getting ready to head back to the house. I looked around and saw the lonely little pail, abandoned by my youngest in search for the perfect shell. I snapped the picture and continued with the whisking of the towels. After a lazy lunch, and a minimal cleanup, I found my place on the front porch and grabbed my camera. We compared the scenes frozen in time and chose the ones to print. I reached the little pail…”Remember?”…We both loved everything the picture embodied. Everything from solitude to childhood beach time was connected with this picture. I want another chance to make a memory like this one. I want to find another scene to freeze in time. I want….”Sounding needy..sorry!” “I am missing my solitary yellow pail!”
What do you say? Do you want to try again? I will try my best to be flexible and not fill up my calendar. I will bring the Coppertone!