Contrary to my mountain-loving friend, I love the beach. Growing up on the coast, beach vacations were an integral part of my childhood. And I don't mean the crowded, tourist beaches with boardwalks and shops. I mean the natural beaches with dunes and sea grasses, cottages on stilts and the smell of salt in the air.
This past week, the Resident and I headed back East for a trip to the beach. We were only in North Carolina for a few days, but those days restored my spirit. There is something healing about waking in the morning to the smell of salt, the ocean breeze, the rustle of scrubby grass.
As I sat on the ocean and watched the waves break on the sand, I realized I have had enough of desert living. Really had enough. I miss the green, the hazy days and dare I say? The humidity....
There are things about desert living that I love. I love the deep, brilliant blue skies that are incomparable to anything I've ever seen. I love the scrubby front yards with the blooming cactus and the flat adobe houses.
But I miss my ancestral homeland. There's something about the ocean.