I Fought the Beach and the Beach Won

On holiday at the beach in North Carolina.

I'm in the ocean with a group of friends. I see a wave coming and know it's going to break nearby. I brace myself; it still knocks me right to my knees. On your knees amid breaking waves is not a comfortable place to be. It's safe, because it's shallow and I can swim, but water and sand churn all around - the earth literally washes from under me. My friend offers his hand to help. My hand, however, is slick with sunscreen. I'm almost to my feet and - bam! - on my ass in the same churning sea. I've never had so much sand and salt inside my suit, let alone in all the nooks and crannies of my muffins.

Evening of the same day. My friend, her daughter and I decide to go to the beach after dark. The house we have rented is separated from the ocean by a dune, with weather-worn steps on each side. On the ocean side, however, many of the steps have been reclaimed by sand. So when you're going to the beach you finish the last eight feet or so down a steep slope of soft sand. You climb the same when you return.

The three of us get to the beach and it is truly DARK. We are armed with two small flashlights and a glowstick, but still the way is not well lit. We decide to curtail our walk. We return to the base of the dune. (Did I mention it was dark?) I start to climb the soft sand and fall right to my knees. This time my friend's daughter extends a hand. I'm almost on my feet and - bam! - on my ass in the sand dune. This time with enough momentum that I literally roll down the dune. That's right. Roll back down the dune to the beach. Lots of sand. Lots of nooks and crannies.

I do finally make it to the safety of our house. The bad news is, I am a little stiff and sore the next morning. Apparently I can't fall four times in one day without some sort of physical repercussions. The good news is, I fully expect a nook or cranny to yield a pearl one day.