A Taste Of Sand And Surf

Summertime, in today’s world, can be endured and enjoyed with air conditioning, backyard pools, community water parks, hose fights and vacations to suitable destinations. Although we fantasize about warmer weather during nature’s winter blasts, when it arrives some of us hide indoors where our comfort can be selected with a touch of a button. It’s this accessible existence that nudge my subconscious memories of days long ago when we kids would thrive on sunshine. 

It was a hot, sticky July in the late l940’s when my brother, sister and I were ecstatic to learn we were invited to share in a glorious few days at Madison on the Lake. Our friends, who owned a cottage there, were without their car at the time. They asked our parents if dad would drive them to their vacation cabin, and in return our family could stay for a few days. There was also another family that would join in the fun, adding another couple and daughter to the festivities. Our carload of six adults and five kids squeezed into our l940 Plymouth for the exciting journey. 

We lived in Cleveland, so the trip would probably take us about an hour and a half to get to our destination. All our clothes, food and other equipment were shoved into the trunk. We kids didn’t care about packing some shorts and shirts, all we thought we needed was a bathing suit, cap and old shoes for the five minute walk to the beach. We could hardly contain ourselves when we pulled up to our vacation home for the next few days. None of the adults was in a hurry to walk us to the exciting waters of Lake Erie.  They wanted to organize the food, check out where each family would sleep, arrange outdoor tables and chairs then decide on who and what was cooking for lunch. Help! We wanted to get wet and play in the sand. 

Finally, someone saw our long faces and offered to walk with us to the beckoning shores of the lake and watch our playtime in the water. It was the first time most of us would experience this event. And now, to all of us kids who were between seven and eleven years old, we were living this precious experience  that seemed like a scene in a movie or a favorite dream that finally came true. 

At last we arrived at our magical destination. Our eyes were transfixed on the huge body of water that seemed to return our smiles. The sand castles could wait---we were mesmerized by this glorious vision before us.  It beckoned our feet to splash, and run in the waves. None of us knew the first thing about swimming, but we made up our own version of pretending. We played tag in the shallow water, falling and laughing like there was no tomorrow. After a while, the boys looked for moving creatures or curious rocks on the beach. The splashing surf caught the attention of us girls who decided to sit down and rest on our elbows, facing just below the crest of the oncoming waves.  There we were, waiting excitedly for each torrent of water to crash, then giggling as the foamy water ran up our bodies and splashed in our mouths. Fun never tasted so good. 

Lizabeth Braskie

I'm a retired Sun Newspaper typist. I've been writing freelance articles for the past twenty five years. Some of them are personal experiences having to do with my family of eight children and a total of twenty grandchildren. They keep me busy with a variety of subject matter.

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Volume 8, Issue 5, Posted 12:50 PM, 06.03.2016