I love road trips and vacations to places I haven’t been before. The feeling of packing and always leaving something is a constant for me no matter the destination. My favorite trip was at the end of July with my wife. This was both of our first experiences at any beach. No no one warned us of the beautiful blue waters bringing endless waves toward our feet. Or the brown quicksand that stays with your shoes and how it likes to rides in your car home with you. The water was freezing yet inviting me to go deeper. My fear of sharks refused to let me go any deeper than I could swim. The wind blew sand into our faces and ripped umbrellas straight from the ground. People had beach towels laid out, claiming their own spots of relaxation. The sounds of waves crashed like cymbals. The taste of bland sand taught me to keep my mouth closed unless it was very important. The sun beaming onto our skin hoped to cause a few hundred skin burns. The scarce sound of birds tells what kind of weather was present that day. The heaviness of the sand on my chest as my wife buried my entire body felt…..
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