Head in the Clouds, Feet in the Sand

I have never been a huge beach person. It's sweltering hot, there are people everywhere, and you'll find sand from one trip years down the road. The appeal just never hit me like it does most people. I much prefer the weather of England, rain and all, but the recent trip has left me pondering if I haven't found the right fit for a beach. Maybe I was wrong because the closest access to a beach is grainy hot sand and dirty water that is full of algae half the time.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

It started on Wednesday June 24th with my grandmother passing away in her sleep. She had been suffering from stage four Alzheimer's and, in a way, it was a relief to know that the struggle was finally over for her. My family had been preparing for this and the only things that really needed to be done was to get everyone to Florida for the funeral. It wasn't going to be a big affair, just my parents, siblings, aunt, uncle, two cousins and a cousin-in-law. There were ten of us in all. By Friday, we had our tickets purchased. By Monday, we were in the air.

It wasn't going to be a long trip so I tried to bask in the little moments. My family hasn't gotten to go on a vacation together in years. We each have responsibilities now and it was nice to just be a family again. My older brother and I tend to be a bit more mischievous around each other, though it's totally his fault. He breathes mischief and brings it out of me. I'm the victim here...anyways.

I also enjoy flying. I love the feeling you get when the plane is taking off. I love getting above the clouds and finding a whole new world in the valleys and mountains made of insubstantial matter. Part of me wishes there was some way I could stick my hand out as we go through clouds. My mind says it would just make me wet but my eyes see a world of possibilities. I love seeing my home in a different view, watching as cities and farms are mapped out on the land. Worries seem a bit farther away when you're 32,000 feet in the air from civilization.

Then we landed in Florida and the whirlwind of a "vacation" never stopped. The funeral was scheduled for Tuesday and our flight home was Wednesday. It wasn't enough time to do everything that could possibly be done. Disney World was out of the question (unfortunately. I will get there some day though!) so that left the beach and maybe some shopping. Our hotel was a five minute or less walk to the beach on Cocoa Beach, Florida. It was a pretty small town and much different than my Texas home. Everything smelled like fish and people weren't in much of a rush to get anywhere. The prices were significantly higher and all the buildings were made out of cinder block.

With our days booked, that left evenings and mornings free. I spent the two evenings we had on the beach and loved it. The day was cooler at that time the sand felt soft and cool to my feet and, thankfully, there weren't that many people on the beach itself. I never actually got in the water, but walking down the shoreline was more than enough. I never realized how much I could enjoy the beach. Going in the cool of the evening meant never getting sunburned, meant never having to squint against the glare of the sand and the water, meant never having to deal with throngs of chattering people cluttering up the air.

I enjoyed it so much, I woke up before six in the morning to see the sunrise on the water. I spent an hour watching the waves and letting the water hitting legs. In the distance, I could see pelicans diving in and out of the water for breakfast. I wish I could have stayed in the moment longer, but all too soon it was time to go home.