It’s a little bit past two and the sun has just crossed over the median of the sky, warming the surfers- whom, adorned in black wet skins, brave the cold January waters, frolicking in the high tides like seals.
I hop off the edge of the sidewalk, removing my rainbow flip flops to let my feet and toes merge adoringly into the creamy sand. It feels like ages since I’ve had that feeling. Handing my shoes to my sister, I take my camera out and switch lenses to capture the vastness of where the ocean crashes into the sand, and the horizon of the sun-kissed, sparkling water melts into the sky.
"...the vastness of where the ocean crashes into the sand and the horizon of the sun-kissed, sparkling water melts into the sky."
Kids run along the beach teasing one another with buckets filled of water and sand and dogs chase after thrown sticks, still dripping from the ocean. An elderly woman pops open her lollipop colored umbrella and fans herself as she watches the other beachgoers.
It’s quite relaxing and it’s not hard to see why so much of the rest of the world has fantasies of the hollywood, glamorized “California Dreaming.”
I smile and laugh to myself thinking this, as my sister makes another comment about how I should forgo my expat lifestyle and travel adventures to move back here. She knows my smile was a giveaway to how much I'd missed the sand and sea breeze. "Mmh I don't think so,” I say lovingly. While I did call California home for 4 years at University, (almost three years back now), I can't imagine it being so again anytime soon. It's hard to picture or think about staying in one place; I've opened Pandora's box, feeling like I’ve just started to see so much of our vast world. My wanderlust is addicting. Maybe someday I'll return back stateside and move to the west coast again to be close to my family, but for now I will just listen to the waves crash and feel the warmth of the sand between my toes.