Notes From the Road – Day 3

On our first full day in Florida, we decided to take the kids to the beach. The weather was sunny, but not really warm – well, warm for us, but not-so-warm for native Floridians – so we figured a quick walk at the edge of the surf would be a nice introduction to this warm and welcoming part of the world.

Zach had been on the very same beach seven years ago. So had Dahlia, but given the fact that she was four months-old at the time, she didn’t really remember the experience.

This was Noah’s first time, though every time we went to the Port Stanley beach near our home in London last summer, he sweetly referred to Lake Erie as “the ocean” and we never had the heart to correct him.

To get to the beach, we had to drive over the lift bridge that crosses the Intracoastal Waterway. I listened carefully to the bubbling of three little voices as we climbed the bridge and approached the coast. Noah saw the waterway out the side window and asked if this was the ocean. Not yet, we said. But a couple of quick turns later, the surf loomed ahead of us, and everyone fell silent as they absorbed the scene with their very large blue eyes. The winds had whipped up some large, deep-blue and green waves. We quickly parked and unloaded.

Before long, our elder little folks doffed their shoes and sprinted through the sand toward the rolling waves. For kids who had no intention of going swimming, they got plenty wet: Dahlia was bowled over by a wave as she stood in ankle-deep water, while Zach looked like he’d been through a car wash after he finished skipping through the surf. Noah played happily away from the water, filling his pail with sand. They never stopped smiling, and would have stayed there all day if we let them.

My wife and I held their hands and strolled through the edge of the surf, thinking that this was one of those simple times that they’d likely remember forever. I hope so.