Five Feet, Nine Inches Above Ground

Going to an actual beach on the ocean, any ocean, regardless of the weather, is always an exciting event for me. I was born and raised as a landlocked individual within sight of that inland ocean remnant known as Lake Ontario. No vast sailing ships, mostly – motorboats. In any case, Wednesday was an exceptional day for sunshine and Faro Beach is amazingly beautiful. It’s actually a sand bar island, similar to an undeveloped version of Anna Maria Island near Saint Pete’s,Florida that I’m known to like. I’m now officially in love with Faro Beach.

The deal was that we would meet Bella and Harald, friends of Randy and Marc, at the beach. Harald likes to walk with Randy and Bella and Marc are kindred spirits and me, well, just get me to the beach, already. There was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to keep up the pace set by the walkers. So, I happily pottled along on my own, collecting shells, meeting people and dogs, and playing in the surf. And taking photos. It was heaven.

We parked the car and the beach beckoned.

Surfing the waves.

Which direction ?

Randy and Marc discussing options.

Looking toward the mainland.

Beach life.

The roar of the surf, the heat of the sun…

Fishing for robolo with rods and lines.

Randy and Harald went on ahead. Bella and Marc chose to wait in a convenient resto.

I meandered at my own speed contemplating whatever I found.

The sand dune protects the homes of fisher folk.

As the tide returns to the salt flats.

Another option is the boardwalk.

But I prefer the beach.

The grounding of bare feet in sand and cold water.

The eternity of water, sky and sand brought a sense of wholeness, joy at being alive in that very moment. Of course, all the exercise and contemplation worked up a fine appetite for lunch.

Pizza and a brew outside in the sunlight by the ocean.

Bella and Marc..

..and Marc.

I went home with a sun tan, sand in my hair and a very happy heart.