I've always enjoyed the beach; as a teenager, I promised myself that I would never live more than a few hours drive away from the ocean. I just liked knowing it was there if I needed it. This particular beach vacation affected me somewhat strangely. To begin with, I was amazed at how relaxing it was, in spite of still having to prepare meals and dress/referee/discipline/clean up after the children. And then wow, that beach... I'd walk out onto it and it was as if I'd stepped outside space and time. If I looked straight ahead, I could see the sea and the slight curve of the earth. If I looked to the right: empty flat sandy beach disappearing into a sea-mist horizon. To the right: same view as to the left. I felt swallowed up by it, and even when I tried, I couldn't put together any coherent practical thoughts. I just *was*. I moved and spoke and attended to the kids, but none of it touched me. I've struggled since then to think of a short, sound-bite way to describe it (I considered "nirvana" but rejected it on philosophical principles), and the closest thing I could come up with was that it was an experience of infinity.
“The car shot forward straight into the circle of light, and suddenly Arthur had a fairly clear idea of what infinity looked like.
It wasn’t infinity in fact. Infinity itself looks flat and uninteresting. Looking up into the night sky is looking into infinity—distance is incomprehensible and therefore meaningless. The chamber into which the aircar emerged was anything but infinite, it was just very very very big, so big that it gave the impression of infinity far better than infinity itself.” -Douglas Adams
Exactly. Illusory or no, it was a lovely experience, the weather surprised me by being beautiful, and I will now post more pictures that I ought to.
The kids had more fun sliding down the dunes than doing just about anything else.
On the path to the house
The main living area of our rental house
The view from the house
On a beach this big, you don't get much company.
Eve really got into sand-castle making.
Samuel, making a zen garden?