Sometimes you just need a random, somewhat spontaneous day trip to the beach. On Saturday we packed a cooler with Clif bars, grapes, and chocolate covered blueberries and drove until we hit the sand. We swam, we read, we adjusted the umbrella a hundred times. We walked and tanned and (eventually) burned, scouring the sand for shells, which all looked so alike at first glance until we stooped down and suddenly found they're wildly different, each its own universe. It was sweaty, sandy magic. A day made just for us, grinning like idiots at each other, chocolate blueberries melting in our hands.
It poured on the way home, a monsoon-like rain, the kind that would be down-right aggravating driving home from work on a Tuesday night in heels, but was dreamy and romantic driving away from the ocean. We pulled into Cracker Barrell for dinner, wet and slap-happy and pink all over. We drank coffee and ate breakfast food and had hilarious, absurd conversations that I can't even remember now. I was being overdramatic and sappy as usual, saying, "Isn't this wonderful? Isn't this the best day ever? Don't you just love life?" Coffee at Cracker Barrell in the rain after a day at the beach is my new favorite thing. I heartily recommend trying it sometime.