Vita has a cabana out by the ocean. She called today and said, “Come for dinner.”
I’m leaving for vacation tomorrow. I haven’t packed. I still have a report I must finish. I had such valid reasons to say, “No, I can’t.” Instead I said, “What time do you want me to pick you up?”
Vita, her daughter Sarah and I headed out to the beach with a roasted chicken, peaches, watercress salad and cucumber soup. Vita picked it all up at Fairways and I revved up the car and they both jumped in with the speed usually reserved for robbing banks. Well, what I believe the speed should be for a fast get away. The weather was overcast and not really what one would imagine beach weather to be. We didn’t care. We three haven’t seen each other in a while and sometimes you just have to go even when everything isn’t perfect.
The cabana is something that is a throw back to the 1940’s. It’s made of wood and with every thump thump thump our shoes made on the wooden planks, worries seemed to float away. Once we arrived, we ate in her cabana all wrapped up in fleece jackets. I had my bathing suit on under all of the layers of clothes I ended up wearing. It was cold. The seagulls called out overhead and once the remains of dinner had been cleaned up we headed towards the water. Swimming wasn’t on the agenda but walking along the shore letting our toes wash in the salty sea was perfect.
Blue crab claws in the sand signaled the season. Terns, black headed gulls and sandpipers ran along the shore and then in the air taking whatever the sea was offering for dinner. We walked and talked of nothing in general. If we have learned anything over the past few years, it is to celebrate moments like these.