alive.

Normally, I see concepts and big pictures over details.

Yet at the beach, I took in every bit of sensory information. 

 I laid on my barely large enough striped towel with the lumpy sand below it, digging into my rib yet providing a nice pocket for my ear. My feet hung off the side, toes buried in the sand to escape for a few seconds of coolness. I was hot, yet there was a constant breeze, so not too toasty. My body, tired from fighting a cold, yet grateful for being able to recover in such a relaxing atmosphere, fell asleep for too long of periods. My runny nose was raw from blowing my nose too many times in too short of a period of time. I could sort of smell the saltiness of the air mixed with the smell of the sunscreen I was wearing. I could hear the rhythmic crashing of the waves, the roaring engines of the boats zooming by, and the sporadic chatter on what our books were about or how many pages we had read. My sunburn, covered with a tank top, still stinging from the added heat of the "peak tanning hours" sun. My skin, covered in little grains of sand, felt stiff and swollen from the heat and salty air. I stayed thirsty, despite constantly drinking water from my Nalgene, due to the persistent sweating and view of the ocean. When walking and skipping down the beach, the wet sand squished between my toes, while I braced myself against the waves crashing into my shins and the rip tide pulling away the ground beneath my feet. My arch occasionally feeling the pain of stepping on a sharp seashell. My eyes squinted from the brightness of the sun and its reflections off the white sand. My mind stayed in amazement in the awesome (in perfect definition of the word) cycles of high and low tide due to the pull of the moon and witnessing a fluorescent blue jellyfish that made its way to shore. My face stared with eyes closed toward the painter of creation and the inventor of the 5 senses. 

These past 3 days, I felt truly ALIVE, in every sense of the word.