Life's a Beach

Thought For The Day

When we moved from Michigan to Florida the differences were pretty extreme. We lived only a couple of miles from the ocean and we all enjoyed the water so when we had the time we would go to the beach.

Lake Worth was a smallish town that was an outcropping of West Palm Beach. There were and still are a lot of small towns that exist along the coast of Florida, but Lake Worth was where we lived. We moved there in the summer and summer in Florida is a different animal. The heat is overwhelming and staying inside with the air conditioning is like being in jail. So, we went to the beach, a lot.

One blistering summer afternoon we sat on the beach with the children playing in the sand and near the edge of the water. Lindsay, my youngest daughter was deeply engaged in a project that appeared to be an attempt to move all of the sand on the beach from one place to another. She was close by and offered shovels, rakes and other excavation equipment to me when she was not using it.

The heat and the sun created a lazy, lethargic mood, almost a dreamlike state of mind. So when my baby girl, who was about three stood straight up and began running toward the water I was surprised and looked toward the edge of the water to see what had captured her attention. There, walking along the edge of the water as if on a runway in Paris were mother and daughter in crocheted lace like bikini's, the picture of elegance. They were both blond and walked with a practiced grace that was was at once alluring and endearing; too much so as it turned out to suit my clever, and very feminine daughter.

At first her interest was sweet, I thought, as she sped toward the pair, but as she gathered speed I began to doubt the humanity in her intent. It was too late. She took the little girl out with a full body tackle. The woman who was with her stood in absolute bewilderment at this animalistic attack.

Lindsay, my sweet little daughter looked completely satisfied, hands on her hips, sand on her face with a "so there, miss fancy pants" look on her face. And I thought as I looked at this amazing situation that women become women at a very early age.

©Herb Ratliff, May 28, 2012, All Rights Reserved