Beachology
Beachology: (n.) the study of how a group of people packs for the beach, moves towards the beach, and relaxes on the beach. See also Beachologist, Beachonomics, and Beachism.
My family has the beach thing down to a science. A sometimes awkward science, to be sure, but a science nonetheless. When we are traipsing in our colorful beach parade through the sea oats of the Hilton Head dunes, causing our teenagers to die a thousand deaths, I'm sure, I often wonder, how do those other people do it? The ones on bikes, or the ones I see with just a towel? Because getting ready for the beach takes a little bit of planning. Doesn't it?
The beach bag is open on the floor, ready to be filled. Everyone has certain favorite things that go along— a splash ball, a frisbee, baseball mitts and a baseball. Five towels (wait, make that four, because the fifth one is MINE and that goes in my own beach bag— you can be sure I'm not mixing my stuff in with that mess!) and, last, but not least, the umbrella corkscrew anchor. In my bag, I have the aforementioned towel, my book and magazine, Adam's book, phones in baggies for all who bring them, and all sunblock (except the solid face stick one, because that gets melty, so it goes in the cooler.)
Ah, the cooler.
"Make your own sandwich and put it in, please."
"Did everyone grab drinks?"
"Who has the sunblock stick? It was in here."
"Are there enough drinks— yesterday there were not."
"Abby, did you choose your drinks?"
"Yes, I grabbed a water, a tea and a soda."
Did you get that? 3 drinks for one person. Multiplied by 5. That's 15 drinks. Poor Jono — carrying that heavy cooler.
"You're lucky," I tell him. "Your load gets lighter on the way home. The towels just get wet and much heavier." Weirdly, he's not wearing his lucky face at the moment.
We hold a sunblock party on the deck before we leave. No one likes to do their first sunblock application at the beach. There is a minor hubbub because one sunblock is apparently "cold" and one is "stingy," but in the end, everyone is duly protected from the giant glowing orb. Phew.
We're heading out the door. Suits and cover-ups on. . .wait. . .
"Abby," yells Adam, "where is the rest of your swimsuit?!"
"Funny," answers Abby."
It's the inaugural year of the bikini. It's going really well.
Out the door again. Two beach bags, one cooler, two adults, three kids. From the small alcove outside the condo door, we grab three chairs, the umbrella, the Bocci set, and the tent. Sam grabs his beach toys and we start to walk.
"Sam?" I say, my foot still holding the door open.
"What?"
"A shirt, please."
He runs back in.
"Sam?" I say, as he returns.
"WHAT?"
"Your shoes, your sunglasses?"
"Oh."
We finally get Sam dressed, and off we go. We are more organized than I may be portraying. Bags over arms, chairs under arms, and Adam in the lead by such a large margin that we can no longer see him by the time the ocean is in view, which, thanks to the lovely proximity of our condo is only a minute or two. He is a man on a mission looking for a spot on the beach.
Dad is long-gone
"I have the heaviest load," he usually says. "I'm just going quickly so that I can put it down."
Jono, carrier of the 15 drinks, might argue.
When we do arrive, we go swiftly into beach action, and it is at this point that I find myself watching those around me. There are the beach-goers that I mentioned earlier, those on bikes with nothing but a towel and a water bottle, and then there are those far more encumbered than we. There are giant tents, structured metal canopies and screened gazebos. To be clear, our tent is no more than a little shade structure. To be clearer, I'm a little jealous of the big tents. There are beach camps with full volleyball courts, sand castle factories and lunch tables. Beachology is a wide study. It seems to range from Beaching for Dummies to Masters of the Beach. I'm not sure where we fall in the spectrum, but it's probably somewhere in the middle. Beach sophomores.
Within a very short time, our small half-tent shade structure goes up, the umbrella is secure, the chairs (one wobbly today) are protected from sun, and the shirts and towels are immediately tossed into the sand. Sam is playing in the water, Abby is peacefully listening to music in the tent, Jono is tossing a baseball with Adam, and I am reading a book
. 
Beach Spot
I note to myself that everyone has moved their favorite things right to the beach, which can really only magnify their greatness. If you love to read, how can it not be better by the ocean? If you love to toss a baseball, how is it not better with sand under you toes and with girls in swimsuits walking by?
The chaos of packing, prepping, and sunblocking all melt away like the sand between my toes. The cooler begins to empty, the towels are damp and sandy, the children are damp and sandy, and as the hours wear on and both the sun and the tide rise higher and higher, the idea of any of this not being worth it , the idea of not doing this all again in 24 hours, becomes increasingly ridiculous.
I turn page after page in my book, and this year, I decide to try someone else's favorite thing, so I head down to the water and play a few games of Splash ball in the ocean. I'm not usually a big big ball player, but with the waves breaking around me, the sun at my back, and my favorite people with me, it's hard not to get in the game.
Three of my favorite people 
It's been a vacation for walking and talking, resting and relaxing, playing and splashing. We saw starfish and sand sharks, turtles and fish, sandcastles and sea oats. By the end of each day, we are suntanned but not burned, tired but not exhausted, sticky and salty, but somehow refreshed. We will go home five people rejuvenated from simply enjoying God's earth and what it has to offer.
Because after all of the packing and unpacking, the towels and the cooler, the beach bags, and chairs, it's not really about what you pack or don't pack, your bikes or your caravan to the beach. It's not even really about where you go. It's about who you're with and how you choose to spend your time. The world is there for the taking. It's all about how you take it in.
Just a few of the many things I am grateful for. . .
"The earth is the Lord's and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it; for he founded it upon the seas and established it upon the waters."
Psalm 24: 1-2
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