I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here

I was late to meet my sister at the beach.
"I had it in my head it would take ten minutes," I explained.
"How long did it take?" my niece asked.
"Thirty minutes," I laughed, shaking my head, rolling my eyes at myself, so they didn't have to. Note to self and the proverbial Toto: We're not in Kansas Maine anymore.

But even minus the tide, minus the waves (the kind you don't have to rely on boats or storms to provide), minus the seagulls and the salt (I didn't miss those anyway), the beach is still the beach.

During our ten thirty minute drive to the beach, Caed declared that Maine has the most beautiful beaches that he's ever seen in his whole entire life (all five years of it). And Dani agreed. "But don't worry, Mom," Caed continued. "Our Ohio beach will be just as fun. You'll see."

He was right. I did see.
Minus the waves, the tide, the salt, the seagulls.
Plus the family, the games, the splashing, the playing together.
It still adds up to freckled noses, pruney toes, to lungs ballooned with summer, to eyes out-sparkling sand.

Oh, and did I mention the ice cream in lieu of lunch? (That right there is a tradition to carry across state lines.)

In the words of the orphan Annie....I think I'm gonna like it here.