I always thought I would live at the beach when I was older. My entire childhood was spent there. I remember the first time when I realized I never want to leave this place. I was four years old and my dad was holding my hand leading me into the glossy blue water. I had been coming here to this paradise for so long, but until this moment I wasn't old enough to understand what a magnificent place it was. One of the fondest memories I have about falling in love with the beach was when my dad first showed me how to surf. .
My feet sank into the wet sand and gave me goose bumps. As my dad laid the surfboard out onto the water it made me shake with anticipation. I was both excited and nervous that he was finally going to show me how to surf. I didn't even care that I really didn't know how to swim yet. I have been watching him surf for as long as my little mind could remember, and it was now my turn, and I wanted to be just like him. My dad has always been a loving, compassionate man but seemed full of life when he was surfing. .
The ocean breeze blew in my hair with its salty smell. Even today that smell still gets to me and brings back all the great memories of my childhood. It blows the waves into the shoreline whipping up the whitewater on the tips of each wave rolling into shore. The seagulls and pelicans used it to push their way through the sky. I look up at my dad who is stilling holding my hand which is preventing me from being drug out by the waves. As I look up at my dad the light gust is blowing his curly sun-kissed hair all around.
I am trying to keep the huge smile on my face to a minimum to prevent the ocean spray from entering my mouth. My dad lightly lifts the hand he is holding with to gesture me to lift myself onto the bobbing board. My legs are still just a little too short to reach my toes up so he helps by lifting my arm up high enough just to give me that added leverage so he could nudge me onto the board with his knee.
