Reading at the Beach

Sunday service ended earlier than usual since the Chime Choir is done for the season and I have no more after-service rehearsals. I miss them already, but it was nice to have a bit of extra time. Drew had mentioned the other day that the only time I talk with him is to bark orders or yell about something not being done. He called me angry.

It made me stop and evaluate. He is right. I don't spend time with him in pleasant pursuits - I figured he plays with his friends and that's enough. But he made a valid point. I guess lack of money had kept us from going out to a movie or bowling or roller skating, and we used to do those things.

But lack of money needn't keep us from having a good time together. So I decided we should celebrate Memorial Day weekend doing something together. I selected a visit to Ontario Beach. There is no fee for parking or entering like at Hamlin Beach. I made sure to slather on sunscreen, then we headed for the mile long pier, wandering together out into the expanse of the great lake, watching seagulls wheel overhead, stepping around dead fish left by weekend fishermen, stopping to let the speed walkers pass, avoiding the water beaded spiderwebs decorating the rusty metal railings.

After the pier walk, we headed up the beach, both of us stripping off our shoes and squishing the warm sand between our toes. Drew and I meandered right at the edge of the water, sometimes letting the cold waves wash over our ankles, sometimes standing in the soft sand while the whirlpool of receding tide sucked the sand from beneath our soles, burying us in a swirling bottomless hole. We gingerly picked our way over piles of sharp seashells, and chucked pieces of driftwood back into the water (did you know that drift wood skips better than stones?) as we chatted about this and that and nothing.

We finally reached the far side of the beach area and turned back towards the scattered groups of people timidly populating the beach, not sure if they should strip down and take the icy plunge or if they should just sit quietly and enjoy the fresh breeze.

I settled down on a sand dune to read my book while Drew began digging a hole. What is there about boys that requires them to dig pits? Drew fashioned a sand chair for me and I moved into the comfy but chilly seat to finish reading while he lay on his back gazing into the blue sky and resting. Time had sped away and too soon it was necessary to head home.

We left just in time to avoid the chill of evening setting in. I had to agree. It was nice to spend time together when I was not barking orders or setting expectations. Good job!