sand, sun & GUEST POSTS!

In exactly 20 days, I'll be kickin' back by the ocean and I am over-the-moon with excitment! I've been craving some sand and sun and waves in my life. Today, I thought I'd upload a guest post written by fellow beach-lover, housemate & friend, Kendall Hancock. Enjoy! :)


The ocean is powerful yet gentle at the same time. When the tide is high, I see it pounding against the sandy drop off, eating away one layer of sand at a time. The bubbly fingers extend and the grit is whisked away by yet another wash of salty water. A few stray shells tumble and turn with the sweep of the wave. Watching the little foamy front receding, the water looks calm and refreshing. The sun sparkles down on it, reflecting off the surface like glass in a mirror. Then I hear a deep crash and the roll of the waves. I can feel it in by chest the same way you can feel the beat of a drum. I lift my eyes from my feet where the waves tickle my toes out to the horizon and the deep sea. I squint out and wonder what it would feel like to be one of those waves on my journey to shore. I would rise up and down to the gentle beat of the ocean with not a care in the world but to be floating happily along. I would smile up at the pelicans as they skimmed by and enjoy the beauty of the sun’s rays shining down causing sparkles to dance around me. Then I would start to swell the closer I got to shore. I would continue to rise filling up with pressure from beneath me. I would reach up to the sky with the tip of my peak, and then suddenly I would start to topple over. Frothy foam would appear as began to spill and overflow. In a second I would come crashing down, beating against the water of the wave receding in front of me and swallowing it completely. Then my foamy fingers would extend to the sandy shore, rushing towards the dunes in one big swoosh. I would start to lose momentum and reach out with my last bit of strength to tear away at a layer of that sandy wall. The sand would crumble at my touch, making me feel powerful and important. Then I would slide away back toward the sea, bubbling and satisfied. Standing there, the warm sun beats down on my face, pulsing to the rhythm of the ocean tide. Then the something changes. The ocean’s pull is just a little different. Now the tide starts receding. The waves crash on the shore with seemingly the same force, but they don’t tear away at the sandy wall anymore. The foam reaches out just the same, but this time a shell escapes its grasp. As I lie in bed that night, I can hear the ocean waves in the distance, whispering me to sleep. It’s a sweet sound like the soft rustling of fall leaves. I imagine myself again out in that deep, blue water. The rise and fall rocks me to an even tempo. The salty mist tingles and cools my face and I allow that gentle, powerful ocean to drift me off into the night.