So we pack up an ice chest, get in our swimming duds and begin the 30 mile drive in the 90 degree heat. For brevity's sake- the beach was lovely. Just like a normal beach, but dare I say... cleaner? The water is absolutely freezing, but not any worse really than the Pacific if you've been to a Cali beach. Obviously it is pretty crowded in some areas, so we- in true misanthropic style- nestle down in the loneliest part of the sand and it begins... our "relaxing" day at the beach.
|Cole looking in pain (probably accurately) Me, half casper. No, thats not a white blanket on my legs.|
Now, having been raised a people watcher, I was always under the impression that it was a natural human past-time. My dear mother has passed on to me the impressive ability to sit and watch people for hours. Maybe it is part of the artist in me, but I always find it fascinating to wonder at peoples stories, analyze their personal relationships on their beach towels, critique how their children are behaving, and size up who should (and should not) be wearing THAT swim suit! Tell me, who is this not fun for? Well... Cole. Cole is who this is not fun for. It says I am invading people's privacy and look creepy! But... WHAT IS PRIVATE ABOUT BEING ALMOST NAKED IN A PUBLIC SPACE? Anyway, I won't bore you with this circular argument concerning beach goers conscious contribution to human's natural voyeuristic tendencies, but... its true. If you are at the beach, you know people are looking at you.
|Yes, this is actually Silver Beach|
|This is Silver Beach too!|