The Beach

The second and third days of our vacation were filled with strange weather. There was no wind at all, yet someone on Lake Superior was experiencing a storm because the waves became quite large. In fact, there was a crashing surf. I loved hanging out at the cottage and listening to the crashing waves. It lulled me to sleep again and again. All of the rocks we had played on during our first day at the cottage were consumed by the waves. It was amazing to me that the waves could come so high, and this wasn't even a real storm. In fact, it was downright eerie, because a person expects gusts of wind to accompany large waves, and there was no wind whatsoever until the last day when the lake got even choppier yet.

Because the surf was up, we went to a sand beach after our rigorous hike through the forest, and it was joyous. Gregory couldn't resist wading into the frigid (and I mean frigid) water. I couldn't stand to leave my big toe in for more than ten seconds, and there he was out in the water, jumping around in the huge waves. I believe the water temperature was in the mid 50s.

Ms. Crazy Preschooler was a maniac at the beach. She ran around in so many circles I got dizzy watching. She sat in the sand. She dug her toes in. She ran far and near. She rolled in the sand. She jumped in the sand. She summersaulted and vaulted in the sand.

Little Gus was in paradise. Over the last few weeks he has taken to loving sand. The sand box in our backyard can occupy him for half an hour straight, and he actually doesn't even eat the sand. So being dropped in a giant sandbox was his way to close a great day in fashion. He crawled all about, letting the sand flow through his fingers, dropping it on the ground and on my jeans.