Last night, I went to the beach to clear my head. While I was looking out at the water, these little human moments came into my field of vision. I never once turned my head, but people kept coming in and out of frame, and I focused on what they were doing and saying to each other. It felt nice, after my freak out, to just witness some kind human interactions.
Two teenagers were trying to get a tiny sailboat off the beach and into the water. An older gentleman and a youngish guy stopped to help them push off. As they sailed away, the young guy said, “They don’t have life jackets. That’s not very safe.”
The older man smiled and put his arm around the young man’s shoulder in a proud kinda way, like maybe he was his father or uncle and knew he had taught him well. They walked on down the beach talking about some paella they had the night before, and then stopped to peer into the bucket of a young teenager who was fishing with his Grandma sitting nearby.
The kid had a killer arm. He’d throw the line out so far, I almost couldn’t believe it. And he caught a lot of stuff. Every time, he’d shout, “Grandma, I got one on the line!! You’re gonna want this one for dinner!! It’s huge!!” Then, some older women walked over by me, picking up trash as they went. I was sitting with my bag from the Chinese food I’d picked up on the way to the beach, and I offered to take their trash over to the bins near the parking lot.
They stopped and talked to me for a while about the beauty of the beach and the gorgeous sunset and then they said, “Have a wonderful evening, dear,” and continued down the beach. As I headed over to the car to leave, I caught sight of a young girl playing frisbee with her mom. After every throw, she’d sneak in a cartwheel or two while her mom was chasing the frisbee, and I smiled and wondered how long it’s been since I’ve felt that carefree.