01-25-2023, 09:39 PM
Note to self: a lake is not the ocean, and a lakeside will never fit your definition of 'beach'.
Nonetheless here you are, in grey cargo trunks and a salmon-colored long-sleeved linen shirt that's two sizes too big, looking determined as you survey the murky water that is probably full of friendly critters who wish only to nibble on your tasty flesh. Sure, you've heard the warnings about koroks and scorpions and eels and skin-melting bacteria and Saints-knows-what-else, but damn if it isn't just too hot to care.
This little pocket of mud and sand can hardly be called a beach, but it was walking distance from your aunt's house and offers direct access to the water. And once one looks past the cigarette butts and broken bottles it has a certain amount of charm, really. The lake is smooth and sparkles in the sun, and the reeds and grass rustle around it, promising some merciful level of breeze. And maybe you're not quite ready to take off your boots and risk slicing your feet open on the razor-sharp rocks, but you are ready to find a nice smooth rock and see how far you can skip it.
And what havoc disturbing the placid inlet might cause.
So that's what you're doing: humming along, collecting stones, a trail of muddy footprints behind you, the evening sun causing sweat to gleam along your neck.
Nonetheless here you are, in grey cargo trunks and a salmon-colored long-sleeved linen shirt that's two sizes too big, looking determined as you survey the murky water that is probably full of friendly critters who wish only to nibble on your tasty flesh. Sure, you've heard the warnings about koroks and scorpions and eels and skin-melting bacteria and Saints-knows-what-else, but damn if it isn't just too hot to care.
This little pocket of mud and sand can hardly be called a beach, but it was walking distance from your aunt's house and offers direct access to the water. And once one looks past the cigarette butts and broken bottles it has a certain amount of charm, really. The lake is smooth and sparkles in the sun, and the reeds and grass rustle around it, promising some merciful level of breeze. And maybe you're not quite ready to take off your boots and risk slicing your feet open on the razor-sharp rocks, but you are ready to find a nice smooth rock and see how far you can skip it.
And what havoc disturbing the placid inlet might cause.
So that's what you're doing: humming along, collecting stones, a trail of muddy footprints behind you, the evening sun causing sweat to gleam along your neck.