What Will Be, We'll See

To stay or not to stay, that was the question.

I almost had a date tonight, which would have ended my sojourn at the beach this afternoon.

But that didn't pan out (que sera, sera), meaning I could stay over an extra night and sleep to the sound of the surf again.

Life is full of trade-offs. Luckily.

When Pru and I woke up this morning, it was to an ocean that had gone from docile and inviting to chaotic and intimidating.

The good news was, the water temperature was still a thing of beauty, so when I left for my walk (and she caffeinated), it was just along the water's edge to enjoy the foam blowing off the roiling surf.

I didn't get a mile down the beach before the beach patrol sped by, inserting red "NO Swimming" flags all along the shoreline.

That's one way to ensure that I finally finished my beach read rather than spending another day pruning in the water.

So I'd been mistaken. Apparently we had pissed off the reading gods Wednesday by not so much as cracking a book.

Despite the unavailability of the main attraction, the weather was magnificent, moving from a morning sky filled with clouds doing their best to block the sun to an afternoon one of almost solid blue with a few wisps merely for decoration.

The gusty breezes that kept the waves out of reach for us mere mortals brought a series of para-surfers, hanging on with all their might to brightly colored, comma-shaped sails and whizzing down the shoreline at an unbelievable speed while hurtling through the rough water attached to their boards.

All I could think was that if it were me, I'd make sure someone was picking me up at the other end because i sure wouldn't want to traipse back up the beach to where I started after that wild ride.

But then I don't really have an adventurous bone in my body, at least not that extreme kind of adventure, so I won't be needing to make those arrangements any time soon.

My concern, as always, was food.

We did a lovely beach picnic for lunch, spreading out Olli salame, two kinds of cheese, heirloom grape tomatoes, watermelon (a beach requirement), a baguette, plus the house-specialty dip (of which I'd heard so much but never actually had it cross my lips) and chips on a towel and grazed happily, until napping on the beach seemed like a better idea.

What better place or time to give myself over to such indulgences?

To sleep to the ocean's lullaby, perchance to dream of dates to come.