On my birthday (Wednesday), the weather cleared enough for us to get to the ocean – the previous few days had been rainy on and off, with us never knowing if it would be raining or dry long enough to get out. In fact, we took young Sarah to the nearby kid beach on Tuesday, only to get rained on while we were there.
The temperature had been hovering in the low-mid 80s and humid so far in the trip and it didn’t really warm up much more than that until Thursday, but I needed to go to the ocean.
The water was cold. Colder than I expected. Cold enough that every time I tried to wade in past my calves, I felt like my toes might turn into icicles.
The waves kept coming in one after the other. They weren’t huge, but every once in a while one would take me by surprise. I don’t know why, but I expected the water to be a little calmer.
Sarah loved the water and (once she got used to it) the sand. She’s going to outswim us all someday soon.
And while I never did get in past my calves, I’m checking this one off my list. Get wet at the ocean, done.