Coastline. Coast. Beach. Shore. Ah yes, there it is -- the magic word that means more than sand and water. It means a summer tradition, a seaside lifestyle, a ritual act. And it's the one place on earth that reveals I really am part-mermaid (not just playing one in parades).
The comfort of shore trips is that they never change at their core, they just unfold. And every year, something a little bit different happens to remind you how thankful you are for the eternity of the sea.
Like when you are one of the last people on the beach, sitting with your best friend, and the sky and water actually turns the color of all the cheesy beach prints I like to mock at the lighthouse-festooned rental homes.
Or when you get the chance to stay in an original seaside manor, with over 100 years of sea, salt, sun, and breezes seeped into its walls, and with good friends tucked away in its gables:
That's when I feel Poseidon breathing, and I'm content to let everything else slip away, if only until the next sunny day.