I hadn't seen the ocean in three years.
That was kind of a big deal to me since for all of my adult life, the beach had been therapy. I'd always lived a short distance away and for most of the 90's I lived in Venice Beach, just feet from the sand. Whenever life or work or love became stressful or overwhelming, I just headed to the beach and watched the sun set or moon rise and all seemed right with the world.
But for nearly three years, we lived in exile hours from the coast. A few times, in the evening out walking the dogs, a breeze would blow in from the west and I could swear I could smell the salt air, but it was only an illusion and as soon as I realized it I sunk into deep funk.
We've been back near the beach now for nearly four months and I'd yet to see the ocean again. I had mentioned that last week to the boyfriend and had forgotten about it.
We had decided to stay in town for the weekend and the boyfriend and I had some errands to run. It was edging up on 11am and I suggested we stop somewhere for breakfast since we were out. He turned to me and said "we are" and he hopped on the freeway headed west.
We ended up in Sunset Beach which is where the boyfriend had grown up. It was one of the first sunny days at the coast and we rolled down the windows and opened the sun roof and drank in the sea air and the beautiful day. He seemed excited to point out all his old haunts and we made our way to the Pantry for brunch.
Afterwards we just aimlessly cruised around. Sunset Beach, Surfside, Seal beach, into Long Beach. At one point the boyfriend turned to me and said "let's go to the beach". I looked at him and said "we already are" and he looked back at me and said "no, REALLY go to the beach... go in the water, lay in the sand."
That sounded crazy.
So I agreed.
We weren't really dressed for it so we stopped at a small surf shop and picked up a couple of cheap towels and trunks. We drove back to his old neighborhood and parked not far from his old house and walked the half a block to the beach.
We planted our towels and crashed on the sand. We'd both grown pale over the past many months and the sun felt good. It was so relaxing to just stare out to sea, watch the seagulls dart and dive, the pelicans slowly cruising up the coast, the waves slowly rolling in. And then it came time to check out the surf.
What most people don't seem to realize is the the Pacific Ocean is very large... and very cold. The water temperature usually lags the air temps by several months and I know from my years in Venice that the warmest water was usually in late September and early October. Dive in in June or July and you were in for a rude surprise. So I approached the waves with a certain amount of trepidation and was genuinely surprised to discover the water was actually totally bearable.
So there we were like a couple of kids, diving through the waves, drifting aimlessly, bobbing and floating between the swells. It was bliss. We must have been in the water an hour before we finally decided to get out.
We dried off in the sun and eventually decided to head home; we'd left the dogs alone far longer than we had planned. We stopped for frozen yogurt on PCH and then reluctantly jumped back on the freeway. As we drove along "Unchained Melody" came on the radio...
"Lonely rivers flow
To the sea, to the seaTo the open arms of the sea..."
It was the perfect day.
