Each time I travel back to my
childhood environs, I promise myself a day at Ocean Beach Park. Even the name
conjures up sun, sand and surf. In its heyday, the airwaves reverberated with the sound of abandoned fun. Now the carnival has moved to warmer climes, the
carousel, its glitter tarnished, has been dismantled and the harsh buzzes and
loud noises of mechanical games replace the penny arcade. Within the cool
interior of its now-abandoned roller skating rink, my errant footsteps echo
through the building’s emptiness.
Later as I step onto the
boardwalk, I can see the distant shoreline lying calm and I’m greeted by the
whisper of gentle waves. I seat myself on a nearby empty bench and settle down to indulge
in my favorite pastime - people watching. The hat that shades my face from the
dazzle of unaccustomed sunlight bestows anonymity.
I follow the path of a
youngster as he churns the sand, his speedy steps taking him to a sleeping body stretched out on a
blanket. He stops to share his excitement, all the while his suit of water dripping on the unappreciative adult. Innocent act of annoyance completed, he turns
and races back to the enticing water.
Close by, a group of young
adults fling themselves into a vigorous game of volleyball, clinging wet sand
glistening on lean, sun-bronzed bodies. With bare skin covered in the skinniest of
bikinis, these young girls are aggressive in their enjoyment of the moment.
An older generation shares
the boardwalk with me. They move at a slower pace, appreciative of the visual
delights and solid platform for their walk. The couple stroll side by side,
their aches of arthritic joints responding to the sun’s penetrating warmth. Another
woman seated close by cautiously raises her skirt to the knees, exposing white
shins.
Such are the images I impress
on my memory. Later, in my land-locked home, though winter days of sun-less
hours and frigid winds take away my breath, I will snuggle in my
recliner and revisit these moments, returning once again to this pleasurable
time.
I love the ocean. The sun, sand, smell of salt in the air. One day I'd love a beach house for summer vacations. :-)
ReplyDeleteYeah, that's a secret wish of mine also - to have a little beach house up on the Rhode Island coast within walking distance of the ocean.
ReplyDeleteThat goes double for me, my sister. See how much alike we are? I hope I don't make you too jealous when I tell you that Don and I feasted on Aunt Carrie's R.I. chowder and clam fritters Saturday. Yummy! Nice memory of Ocean Beach.
ReplyDeleteHmmm, got your Aunt Carrie fix before you moved away, huh?
ReplyDelete