So, technically, we live really close to the ocean.
I mean, if you look at a map, it is much closer than our last house was to the gulf. And yet, there? We went to the beach all the time.
Here, we've been twice. And it's a schlep. A serious pain in the ass schlep.
Mostly, because of traffic.
What should have taken an hour and a half took over three Saturday. (Realize, we knew Saturday would be bad, too. But we went with friends and we thought we left early enough to avoid the rush.)
But it was worth it.
Just to swim into the waves (I like to float just beyond the break, it's so peaceful, but there's still enough wave to keep me active).
Just to share that love of the wild blue with our son (who is quickly turning into a fearless body surfer!). Just to soak up the sun and relax.
So worth it.
I wish we could live closer (so it was less of a schlep), but it's not to be right now. Commuting would suck the life from my love, and I'd hate it if he were gone more.
But the ocean is in my blood and I need more of it. (Maybe heading the opposite direction, towards the NY shore? Or going Sundays? Or weekdays in August? I'm going to experiment to try to find what works best for us.)
The lake beaches we live closer to are cute, but they're not the Atlantic. They're not wild and free and salty.
I need more of the ocean in my life.
I'm willing to put up with some traffic to get more of that salt air in my lungs.
Yes. I am.