Beach Bum

Well, it’s official: Summer time has come to stay. The actual summer solstice may have snuck by me as the days have been flying by at an unreal pace these days, but I still would have felt the seasonal switch had I worn a blindfold outside. Brilliantly sunny but humid days are now followed by sudden, terrible storms, so powerful that they threaten to turn our front yard into a swimming pool. I certainly don’t remember this sort of weather pattern from previous years, but perhaps my fixation on the winter months has skewed my perception. Truthfully, summer is not my favorite time of year, stirring up memories only of sweaty tank-tops, bug bites, and a few horrible experiences with camping. No, I’m not a sun-loving beach-goer to say the least, but as one who appreciates extended hours of sunlight to work by, I do still welcome the atmospheric change.

To pay homage to this season and perhaps straighten out my mixed feelings towards it, I decided to put it all on the line, hold nothing back, and – get this – go to the beach. Hardly a cause for commotion in most circles, but practically unheard of in my book. Hey, if you can’t beat them, join them, right? A great idea… But in reality, not so much.

Scrabbling less than gracefully across the scorching hot sand like a spider in a frying pan, I found myself terribly misplaced within the oasis of bronze bodies and young families. Shade, where was the shade? I could feel the color rising to the surface of my sheet-white skin, promising to produce a nasty burn in no time. Searching frantically for some guise of shelter, I came across I wonderful idea exhibited by a similarly pale patron; A wide parasol spread above her like a protective UV filter, I couldn’t help but stare with envy.

But wait, who was this cool cat basking in the breeze? Donning a pair of jet-black sunglasses like a rock star trying to avoid discovery, I could have sworn I knew her from somewhere. Regardless, she could have been absolutely anyone and I would still be green-eyed with jealously, wanting only to dive under that parasol along with her. If only I had had the foresight to think of such preventative matters, but alas, my skin was now beginning to take on a tomato-red hue more suitable for a fire engine than a human.

One last furtive glance at the sun-shy cat couldn’t confirm or deny my suspicions of celebrity, for she looked just as regal but unidentifiable as ever.

With raw shoulders and cheeks, it didn’t take much longer for me to abandon the playing field, seeking the comforting glow not of the sun, but of my computer screen once more. Still, I think I might have to use that idea of hers next time, even if I end up taking a rain umbrella and looking like a mixed up fool – It would still be better than frying in the sunshine.