Vacation. Sweet, sweet vacation
We all have our favorite places. This is ours:
The tidal marshes and the palm trees. The possibilities of alligators lurking in murky waters. The beach. The Spanish moss. The old homes riddled with history. We love it all.
The only thing we don’t love about it is that it’s a twelve hour drive and we can only manage a week a year right now. Our next trip is, realistically, more than a year away. In a way, that’s heartbreaking. We love it that much.
We stay in beach houses with floors that seem permanently sandy. We smell like suncreen. There is sand in all the beds. We drink our weight in sweet tea and we are restored. We relax. We walk in warm tidal pools and warm shallow ocean waters. We feel like we could walk in them forever.
We watch flocks of pelicans soar over the ocean. We find giant sea shells that are still occupied. We marvel over complex and beatuiful jelly fish that wash up on the shore. We sit on the porch at night and listen to peepers. We breathe in the magnolia trees. We bury our toes in the sand. We collect tiny pebble sized sea shells and call them treasures.
It is our place of somedays.
Where’s your place?