A Day At The Beach

        I run down the boardwalk, not worrying about getting splinters in my

tender feet.  Every ten or fifteen feet I stop, sometimes to smell the salty

sea air, but mostly to wait for my parents who plod along behind carrying

chairs, coolers, and other beach paraphernalia.  I yell back to them to hurry,

and they reply that I can run ahead and find a good spot.  I yelp with glee and

run as fast as my little legs will carry me.  I stop where the dark, brown of

the boardwalk meets the light, white of the beach.  My dad warned me about how

hot the sand can get.  I cautiously take a step forward testing the sand, OUCH,

he was right.  What am I gonna do now, in my six year old eyes the water seems

to be a mile away.  Again I look out to the ocean which seems to stretch for

days in all directions.  I am determined to reach it, no matter what sacrifices

I must make.  I step forward again testing the sand, still white hot.  I  pull

my courage from the corners of my being and make a run for it.  This isn't so

bad if I run really fast.  The wind blows in my face, bringing with it that

smell, almost a taste of the ocean.  It seems to be a combination of fish, salt,

people, and water all mixed into one.  I continue to run until I reach the

water's edge where the waves crash upon the beach, making the white sand brown

and hard.  I sit down on the sand, panting after my enormous effort.  Something

troubling pulls at the edge of my mind, but I ignore it.  A wave rolls up to

the beach, crashing around me, wetting me hot body.  I dig my body into the

moistened ground, covering my legs and arms with the cool, wet sand.  I hear my

mom calling to me to come up to the umbrella.  I turn back to look at her, as I

do so the little thing at the edge of my mind suddenly dawns on me.  I made it

out to the water, now I must make my way back.