As the summer comes to a close and my brief stint of vacation in Miami ends even sooner, I can't help but rewind the past couple of months in my mind. Between the incredible internship and even more incredible cohort of summer friends, there's not much, if at all, I'd do over. Days I'd play over, though? Plenty. Most of which coincidently have to do with aquatic escapes. I guess I do my Pices-ness well in that I crave water and the routine bikini-clad plunge. However, being in Boston for the summer meant that my standards of a "beach day" had to shift, stat.
My first beach excursion was to Duxbury where the sand was replaced with rocks and the water was replaced with ice. At a beach unsuitable for leisurely tanning or a refreshing dip, what do you do? Bury your friend in the only sand patch in sight, of course! Well, that and play great music to soundtrack your Spikeball.
Beach trip number two was a lot more familiar given the return of sand and, actually, my return to Singing Beach from last summer's Fourth of July trip with Sara (my dear summer roomie of 2k16). Here, at Manchester-by-the-Sea, we lapped up mountains of ice cream, frolicked on the set of The Proposal (I'm still replaying my reenaction of Sandra Bullock feeding the dog to the hawk), and played some questionable games on shore - one that had me sprinting into the ocean, submerging myself, and losing all feeling in my body. But hey, that's summer!
Aquatic adventure number three was far more spontaneous in that I was invited to None-Such Lake (a lake??) after work one day and just said, "why not." I think was far too excited about my first time seeing a lake, let alone swimming in one, that I'm pretty sure I annoyed all of my friends. Not to mention that I snobbishly commented on the "dirt" taste of the water because my palette is apparently more accustomed to the salinated Miami Beach waters. Needless to say, my friends tried to convince me there was a Loch Ness Monster lurking underneath the orangey water, to which I replied, "There's None-Such thing." (It was really funny, I promise...)
A return to the lake rounded out excursion number 5, though if one skinny dips at midnight and it's not documented, did it really happen?
The sixth body of water provided more of an ambient and familiar background sound than an opportunity for splashing about. On her one day visit to Boston, Val found herself in a familiar position: cuddled next to me on a blanket by some water. And no, we're not dating.
Salt, sun, and sand trip number seven happened a little more true to form: 305 form. Given 10 days home, I spent the first 5 sleeping and plan on spending the last 5 swimming. Today, awoken by the irrational urge to take a dip at the crack of dawn, I swooped up Val at a ripe 7:30am and we managed to get in a solid beach day all before lunch.
I used to think a solid beach day was defined by the quality of the sand and the clarity of the water, but, after spending a whole summer taking off to any nearby body of water I could find, I realized that aquatic escapes are much better defined by the company than the taste of the water when you jump in cannon ball style.