Oceans away from home...

Well here I am, vacationing on the Pacific coast for the week. Now, I'm sure when some of you hear "Pacific Coast" you get visions of hot, sandy beaches, sunscreen, swimming in the waves in swimsuits and walking on boardwalks with thousands of fellow beachgoers. Anyone with that picture in mind is clearly thinking of the Southern California coast.

I am not there.

I am here, on the Washington coast. And despite what many people who are new to this whole chilly beach idea think(...ahem... MG...) it really is quite lovely. We do need sunscreen here, if we're out on the beach more than an hour or so. The sun really is warm, too. It's just hard to feel how warm the sun is through the frigid wind. But the sand is really nice... perfect for sand castles and name writing. You can find tons and tons of broken sand dollar bits (which, by the way, make excellent windows for the afore mentioned sand castles) and seagull feathers (perfect for castle flags!) and crab parts (really not useful in the least, but terribly fascinating to a gaggle of little boys).

I must say I've never really been to much of the Atlantic coast (Florida once... it was terribly humid and the water was too salty) and I only recall a few sunny, hot days in San Diego. I do like the warmer water, and there is something to be said for haivng the opportunity to swim without fear of hypothermia setting in.

BUT... having lived in Washington since the age of five, this is The Beach to me. I loved jumping the waves as a child, feeling the ice cold water on my legs, soaking my shorts (it's just plain insanity to go out in this water in a swimsuit!) and often most of my shirt. My cousin and I would get out just to our ankles at first... slowly, tentatively... Then, we'd brave it out to our knees, all the while jumping the waves as they'd come crashing in. And before long we'd be soaked to our waists, laughing and frozen, no feeling left in our feet at all.

And now I love watching my boys do the same thing. I forget every year when we come here that I need to bring so many clothes. Without fail our first day out at the beach my boys end up soaking any and all clothing they have on, even if it happens to be the one and only coat we brought along for the week. But there they go, Punky quickly stripping to as little clothing as his Momma will allow and Finny out there pretty well bundled until he sees his adored big brother down to shorts with no shirt, at which point he follows suit. They go out there and jump waves for a bit, until the waves get just scary enough that they turn tail and run for all they're worth back to the sand, until they catch their breath and head right back out for more. Inevitably, Finny falls at some point and gives in to the teeth chattering chills and he needs to be brought back to the truck to dry off and warm up. Punky just keeps going though, until someone calls him in when it's time to head back. Goose is not yet much of a water baby, but he sure loves chasing his Grampa down the beach, running like a little football player, head down, shoulders hunched up, thick, short legs pumping like mad!

And then there is the digging. What is it about little men that is just so darn cute? They are just so clearly built to work. Give them a shovel and a wide open plot of sand and watch them go. It's amazing, really. And fascinating. Now don't get me wrong, I remember building a few sand castles back in my day. But really there were far more fascinating adventures to be had for me than to sit and build up a pile of sand in somewhat of a castle shape. But to watch my boys (and my dad and my husband...) go at it, well, it's just such a charming reminder of how God really did create men for work. My dad was so disgusted last year with our meager supply of plastic shovels that he actually brought a bunch of real garden spades this year. If you're going to do the job right, apparently you need to have REAL tools with which to do it. ;o) And boy do those three little boys' eyes light up when the big shovels get tossed out of the back of the truck!

There's Punky, finally putting to life the castle he's been plotting out for weeks as he anticipated our annual beach trip coming up. He's got a massive moat and multiple towers (8 at least). His daddy is there (very large garden shovel in hand) digging right along side his boy. Finny is over with a much more humble moat and only three towers, but his castle is decorated in fine detail, with multiple feather-flags and neatly placed shell-windows. Goose is over trying to move his dump trucks around and being remarkably considerate of his brothers' castles for a two year old, I think. Grampa has built him his own little castle he can knock down at will. But true to his little male spirit, he's finally come around to realizing that sometimes there is more joy to be had in building up than in tearing down. He's finally seen the light (and boy are his big brothers thrilled that he's figuring that one out!).

There I am sitting in a beach chair and nursing a sleepy Girly Pie, watching all my men in their element. It's really just so beautiful. The sun is shining (always a treat) and the wind is remarkably mild. The waves are crashing... oh my, they are lovely. The ocean really does just remind you how small you really are, and how big our Creator really is. And the baby is sleeping in my arms, and the boys are chasing and digging and laughing and pretending. The men are munching fried chicken and plotting out other digging ideas. The seagulls are begging and the boys are chasing them. Goose is chanting loudly "YUMMY! UMMY-UMMY-UMMY..." as he begs for more potato salad. Finny is trying to enlist peoploe to join him in a whole new family reenactment of the Swiss Family Robinson (his all-time favorite book and movie) and suddenly he and his Daddy are freeing me and Girly Pie from pirates. Punky is STILL working on his castle - apparently it is in need of a well. Now two of my sons are buried up to their necks in sand. And did you know that if you throw a mostly dead crab out on the beach the seagulls will eat it right in front of your eyes? I know, fascinating stuff.

And the whole time I just can't stop thinking about how blessed I am and how this is just such a beautiful time. And I think how great God is, and how awesome are His works.

But of course there is only so much time for such musings, as I answer the endless questions and admire all the buildings and wipe multiple messy faces and pick sand out of eyes and burp Girly Pie and munch on chicken myself. But still, in those quiet moments in between all the busy, full moments, I love to just soak it up.

And really, what fun would those quiet moments be if you didn't have so many busy and full moments to muse over, right?