I am a West Coast girl at heart. Naturally I did not realize this until I moved East. Shortly after I arrived on the East Coast I felt the deep pull of the Pacific pulling me back. Now don't get me wrong the East Coast is lovely. There are green trees for miles, summer storms, snowy days, and all the bounties that the Nation's capital has to offer. I have greatly enjoyed my time here (even though really I have only spent a total of ten months here), but I am ready to head back West.
More than anything I miss the Pacific. And the beaches that run up the coast. What is funny is this is that I didn't grow up as a beach kid. I can count my own memories of going to the beach as a child on one hand and I remember year long gaps where my little toes never stepped in those chilled waters. But it is what I hold dearest about my home state. It is the ocean I feel calling me home.
I started driving out to the ocean more and more in college. When the beaches of Malibu were just a short drive from the suburban neighborhood of my university. But I truly fell in love completing a class assignment for my Environmental Literature course. We had to spend two hours in nature with out our phones and write in the moment about our experiences. I managed to find a small hidden beach along PCH to head to. The type of beach with a winding staircase down a cliff. Once you hit the sand all evidence of the bustling highway and outside world vanishes. So naturally I piled all of my roommates into my wonderful old minivan and took them with me. Little did I know that I would return to that beach many more times. Somedays just for a quick escape with some class reading. All you really need is just an hour or two of those crashing waves to feel like the world has been right again.
In our last week of undergrad Erin and I headed to the beach together one last time. We had gone to a Christmas theme event and were quickly disenchanted with it. So we did the only thing that seemed right put on our rain boats and headed to the coast. To the sound of those waves and by the light of a nearly full moon we took in the end of an era and contemplated what was coming next. The ocean isn't a place of beginning and ends but rather one of constant coming and goings, one never knows what will be brought in with the next storm or washed out with the night's tide.
More than anything I miss the possibility of going there. I miss knowing that at any point I could hop in the car and drive to the closest beach in under half an hour and leave all my worries behind and just be at peace with that great big ocean.
The next time you take a trip to the coast just stop and think of its vastness. The fact that that water has touched all the continents. That beyond that horizon is another culture, one full of people who are looking back at you but are unable to see you. Not to mention what is below the surface, the ocean plays home to so many creatures and crawlers and mainly swimmers. There is just so much wonder to be held in it all. Add in the quaintness and magic of beach town USA and well that is my kind of heaven.
I long for lazy days spent eating cinnamon roll french toast at Ruby's on the bear, dipping my toes in icy cold water of the pacific, and watching the sun say its final goodbye for the evening.