Ocean Therapy

 The beach was so fun. I wore my light-green bikini; no sunblock (hey, I’m a Floridian). Brought my Marlboro “special select,” of course. Set up my GCI rocking chair. Two Miller Lite beach towels. One Milwaukee radio. Cooler with water, Aspire, and ginger soda, twizzlers and potato stix for the birds (not the twizzlers). We had some friendly bird guests! They crunched the potato stix to an accommodating size, left no crumbs, then flew off. 

We played frisbee in the water (my aim is not so good: John has to run a lot to catch mine). Splash, splash, splash. Then we got in the water, which was cold at first, then into waist high water with waves splashing at our shoulders. I almost lost my sunglasses! I like to do the doggy-paddle. “John, do you feel that?” I asked, to discover barely golf ball sized transparent jellyfish. “If this were Australia we’d be high-tailing it out of here…”(obviously the jellyfish are bad there). So we got out.

John sat on a towel and I took the chair. The radio played Black Sabbath and Pink Floyd, the Black Crowes and Foo Fighters (on 95.7, our local rock station). We smoked a cig. Soaked up the sun, felt the breeze, fed more birds. There was a high pitched groan due to construction on a hotel nearby. I sat on a towel and made flowers out of the little baby seashells surrounding us. In the distance the water crashed into white bubbles and traveled onshore leaving a glossy coat on the sand. Bicyclists went by. And an ice cream truck playing a familiar nursery tune, which seemed to blend into our music. I took a picture of my shell flowers. Soon it was 3 o’clock and we were enough sun-baked as the doctor ordered, so we packed up our things. “Now when we’re bored we can go to the beach,” John said. I like it. Ocean therapy.