I make my arrival to the beach. The sun is scorching. It feels like it must be 110 degrees but the news said it was 87. I make my very first step off the ledge into the silky
sand to feel thousands, maybe even millions, of pearl white shells and particles sand squeeze through my toes covering my feet in its residue. I set up my beach towel and sit
down to admire the beauty of the beach around me. The moment I do the golden silence around is broken by a white, orange coast guard helicopter overhead sweeping by. The blades whoosh loudly no more than 200 feet above my head. A small mist of sand stirs up as the helicopter makes its way down the shoreline, perhaps in hopes to save someones life in panic. The scene now goes back to a silence. The only thing to be heard is the ocean quietly crashing into the shore.
I look into the distance and I see a bright orange parachuter floating in the sky. There is also a large bright yellow boat almost directly underneath the parachuter. To my discovery I realize it is a parasail ride. From the great distance I am from the boat it seems to be motionless. After a few minutes of watching
this I can tell they are moving ground. I vaguely can see the white water splashing up from the boats wake. By now a few families have moved in on my territory to set up for an
exciting day at the beach. I find myself eavesdropping into their conversation to find out that this is their very first time ever being to a beach. I find out more so that they are tourists from Indiana. The parents seem to...