Waves breaking gently on a small beach, picking up pace as a boat goes by; rustled water like wind passing through a reed. Blended drinks of varying color, sweet, and easy to sip though with no umbrella to keep from the sun. Behavioral mix-ups as to whether I was swimming in the ocean or in a pool. And happy red toes, dressed and ready for their adventure in the open air.
Certain things are easy to get used to. Others remind you we must struggle. Perhaps this was a trip set far to one side of the scale, but seeing as how the last two plus years have often tilted in the opposite direction, I think it may be time for us, if only for a while.
In a moment of lengthier living, I would never choose that without struggles—the grappling sensation for discovering intention to be realized or at least considered. But, to never be forgotten, there is that part of us as well that says it never hurts to jump. Off the end of a dock that floats to the earth’s sway, you pretend for a little while you’re just a boy again.