Occasionally — but not often — I do things other than take walks or bike rides. That said, at some point last week, I found myself at Third Beach. Sequential beach names are so helpful, aren't they?? Actually, it was Peabody Beach, at the far end of Third, near the snack bar. That's where I locked my bike to a sign post, a weathered one, a reminder — as if I needed one — that time was of the essence. From there, I wandered way down to the left, where there are rarely any people, because (this is so embarrassing) I was wearing a bikini.
Last summer, after years upon years in tanks and tankinis, I ventured back to a true two-piece. It was Darling Daughter's idea; she assured me it looked okay. Mr. Betty was no help; he says everything looks okay. I was just so tired of the same old (emphasis on "old") thing ...
She wasn't really lost — just temporarily unattended. Clearly, she belonged to someone. As did those abandoned flip-flops. As did those empty molds for building sand castles left beside the fence ...
Quite the pose, huh??
Anyway, I had just gotten all cozy on my towel, tucked beside some tickly grass, and I'd gone so far as to open a book, when I saw something. A gull. A big one, a pretty one (to my eyes), or more-to-the-point a compelling one. It/she/he was standing on a seaweedy rock looking simultaneously purposeful and generally befuddled. Almost posing. Then a friend joined him or her, and they seemed to be having a conversation. So I got up to check it out. I didn't put on my t-shirt or wrap a towel around me — even though it occurred to me for one quick second that I might regret the decision — as some things just can't wait ...
And, of course, en route to Crab Town (the farthest end of the beach where the seagull was standing), I ran into people I knew. Two other women. More or less my age. They were in bikinis, too!! We all looked okay (I think, though I still felt sheepish) but agreed that the best strategy for bikini-wearing is never to look down. Sort of the same thing as never looking backwards, yes?? I mean, what purpose does that serve?? We had a great conversation. I told them what I was doing; they told me what they were doing. There was a good deal of laughing — then we parted ways, and I went back to my towel, where I decided it was time to pack-it-up and get going. I did redress, of course, before heading back to my bike, back by the snack bar (still closed, despite open windows), near which I saw a little lost lamb playing in the sand ...
She wasn't really lost — just temporarily unattended. Clearly, she belonged to someone. As did those abandoned flip-flops. As did those empty molds for building sand castles left beside the fence ...
Quite the pose, huh??
