Roll and Rock, and Polkadots. |
Yet, even though it seems there is no better place to spend a sunny July day, 6-year-old twins can tire of the beach, if mommy and daddy just want to relax. No, we mustn't sit too long, or stretch out on the beach blanket, and get comfortable. Sandcastles must be constructed. Shells and crabs must be collected. Boogie-boarding must happen at least twice every hour, for at least 15 minutes per session.
It's wonderful.
I'm not one to lay about in the sun to get a tan, or shoo the children away, while I settle under an umbrella to read a throw-away novel, anyway. Vacations are exhausting... And sometimes dangerous!
Michael was bored, and because the tide was finally going out, I brought him over to "the rocks" where tide pools just last year yielded starfish, sea urchins, sea horses, shells, and crabs. This year, we were lucky to find some little crabs and broken shells, but it was fun for them to hunt for treasures, and it was a break from sitting and playing in the sand. We were quite occupied, and I had even caught Michel a one-clawed-larger-sized crab, (which involved me making squealing/shrieking sounds of terror, and using my shovel to push it into the bucket). Touch a crab? Nope.
Sam's sister Sarah came over to give me a message from Sam and offered to stay with Michael, and actually catch crabs with her hands, while I made my way back to our sprawling claim of space on the sand, including chairs, a blanket, towels, and a blue umbrella. Before I had made it halfway there, Stella was running towards me, splashing up water around her, yelling, "Mommy, mommy, look what's behind you." She appeared to be smiling, yet when someone runs towards me hollering that there is something behind me, I get a little nervous. A shark... What? I spun around just as she reached me and grabbed my hand. "Mommy, it's a wedding!" Indeed, a bride, and the entire bridal party had made its way down the ramp from Stage Neck Inn to have their photographs taken on the beach. Stella wanted to watch from "the rocks," which meant we had to run back to the rocks very quickly, or risk ruining all their pictures with bikini beach photo-bombs.
We settled onto the rocks so Stella could marvel at it all. She loves weddings. She wants to be a flower girl very much. She also already thinks about being a bride. She chattered away about her thoughts on the dresses and the photo poses; the bridesmaids wore short, coral dresses, which she believed should have been longer and probably pink, when Michael asked to be returned to his daddy. Sarah offered to bring him, since the rocks were quick hot from the sun, and she had to carefully wait for the right moment, when no pictures were being taken, to get Michael quickly through the surf, and down the beach with his bucket of live crabs. The wedding party soon ascended the ramp to begin the reception festivities, to Stella's dismay, and she had a new idea that she found to be equally exciting.
Stella wanted to climb the rocks next to York Harbor Beach on the right side facing the ocean. Aunt Marguerite had done this yesterday with sneakers on and fully outfitted for rock climbing. I was in a navy blue, string, polka-dot bikini and barefoot. Stella was in a little floral bikini and barefoot. I decided there was no harm in going a little further out because she kept saying, "Mommy, we are strong, we can do this no problem. It will be a piece of cake." She was also already picking her way around the rocks before I had responded to her plea for adventure.
... It was just past high tide. Only the higher rocks, you know, the rocks that require actual, real-life climbing, were exposed...
Yeah, we climbed that rock wall. Oh no, we can't climb down that rock wall. |
Peeking around the rocks, trying to figure out what other options we had than to keep climbing! |
We made our way around and I kept saying to 6-year-old Stella, "I think we had better turn around, this seems dangerous," yet little Stella insisted we were safe as can be, and that she really wanted to climb. I declared decidedly that we must turn around, and she said, "Mommy, don't freak out, this is easy for me." She used her serious, through her teeth voice, where the word mommy comes out in one sharp syllable. She used the old hairy eyeball, a look she has perfected to be no less intimidating than the dagger stare of Miss Almira Gulch. She had her hands on her hips. She meant business. She scares me a little bit when she means business. We kept climbing.
We got to a point where we had to turn back or figure out something drastic. We (she) decided it was a good idea to climb the face of a rock formation that was completely vertical and at least 4 feet taller than me. She is a little spider monkey. When we reached the top, I realized we could not get back down.
Water too deep, rocks under water too slippery... we're going for it. Up, up, up. |
Really? Really!!!! |
Yup, it was steep. |
News delivered that the path existed, but we were in for a big, fun treat... Stella cowering from the pricker bushes. |
So there were these guys that had swum over and easily walked to the top from a very easy route that we had no access to. I asked them how deep the water was to see if I could swim her back, however, they said it was 15 feet around the rocks, and although Stella believed I could swim with her on my back, this long distance, that was a no go. We realized we had to keep going all the way up to the top. We carefully worked our way up the rock formations, which became more and more challenging to maneuver.
We got very near the top and the guys were climbing back down to jump off into the water. I asked them if there was a path at the top that could get us safely to the beach, and they said yes, but it would lead us smack in the middle of a wedding reception. One man said, "You will definitely be noticed, and it might be awkward."
I said, "Oh no, we can't do that."
He replied, "Honestly, I'd rather see you take her that way and be safe."
Thank ya stranger.
I knew it wasn't just unsafe to try and climb back down, it was really impossible to do without help. I looked out across the beach trying to mind-meld with my husband. Come. Save us!
Apparently, he was taking pictures of the whole damn thing, and was absolutely amazed by our climb, and was not aware of any distress. I looked back at the path, and then down at Stella. She was game for anything. Hmmmm... Maybe the guests and wedding party would be engaged in something so interesting and entertaining, they would be temporarily, yet completely unimpressed, by the clear blue summer sky blending into the majestic, churning Atlantic, for the few moments, (I hoped it would be only a short distance we would be crossing), we would suddenly offer some glaring exposed flesh contrast to the formalwear of the event, as we appeared at the top of the path. I quietly asked God to please not have us photo-bomb wedding photos in a much more ridiculous manner than if we had just happened to be in the ocean while they were having a few pictures taken on the beach. And we moved on.
No Eye Contact. Just Run! |
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