What Being On a Beach Felt Like

The three great elemental sounds in nature are the sound of rain, the sound of wind in a primeval wood, and the sound of outer ocean on a beach.     

Henry Beston

My psyche registered a mixture of ecstasy and awe when I saw the sea. Its vastness extended as far as any eyes could see (like they have finally reached the point where the earth curved into a sphere). My mouth spoke gibberish; my eyes were no longer mine; and like a Viking, my heart became entangled with the sea. But the gatekeepers won't just let my body connect with my wandering soul. It was in this state of mind that I sat in the bus. And there they were, my folks, haggling our way through.

Did they not see the sea? Did the wind not explore their forms? Perhaps they have become too familiar with nature that they decided not to marvel at it as they should. Or maybe...just maybe it was my years of being sea blind that have jolted my senses into supermode. I mean I could suddenly hear the breeze whispering secrets into my heart, as loud as I could hear the gatekeeper's permission to join the crowd of beachy dudes and babes.

I cleared my throat in my mind, and I sent my eyes on unconscious errands. Everything seemed graceful: the people, the cars, the bars...even the stones that lay idly on the beach.

When I alighted strange thoughts started invading my mind. Thoughts like: how does a Muslim act on the beach? What is the Islamic definition for beach fun? People are watching, I am shy, how on earth am I supposed to catch fun here? But then again, I thought, I can't be as awkward as the girls taking pictures in bump shorts and singlets; I can't be as shameless as the lady lying on the beach, waiting for the waves to caress her seminude body; I can't look as dollish as the lady (Sade Adu) with the heavy make up; I can't be as unromantic as the man covering his wife's legs with wet sand; I can't be as daring as the old woman taking pictures on the beach; I can't be as insane as the guy doing the backflip (or something similar) where the waves were most disturbed; and I definitely can't be as wise as AbdulMateen, the kid who decided to swim in the sand instead of the sea.

I strode self-consciously towards the water, the sand absorbing my legs as if telling me not to go further, but I did anyway. And...that made all the difference. I took my seat amidst the shells on the beach, and slowly, I let nature permeate my pores. I could hear the moans of the sea caressing the golden sands of the beach, I could feel the excitement in the wind as it tried to yank my clothes off, I could read the happiness off their prints as the horses galloped across the shore, and I could smell the beachy freshness of a bright Saturday afternoon.

Before my brain could process all these feelings, something nudged my feet to stand straight, and just at the moment I thought I was in control, I was already playing run and catch with the sea, taking pictures with my folks, and giggling all along.

It was then I realized that the ladies taking pictures in bump shorts, and the lady waiting to be caressed by the waves were victims of sea spell, just like me. I realized that the insane guy wasn't really insane; he was just being hit by an upgraded version of sea spell. The old woman just missed her youthful days, nothing more. And AbdulMateen, the handsome kid, won't play with the sea, lest he be eaten by roaring waves.

At the end of the day, I realized that there's no limit to being crazy, awkward, or what have you on the beach. If not, I wouldn't have taken a mind photograph of my self on a horse, looking hot in my cowboy outfit... And if I were not hypnotized, I  sure as heck wouldn't be here telling you wet stories on my weblog. 

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to subscribe to Akinyemi's Journal (scroll down, you'll find a place to enter your Email address).