Pensacola Beach, Florida

“The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.” -Cornelia Funke

Growing up on the Gulf.

As a child, I remember chasing the waves crashing into the shore, trying not to get wet, and the scream of delight wet ankles brought. I remember building kingdoms out of sand and shells and racing my brothers down the shoreline to see what the local fishermen caught. But above all, I remember rushing into the water and swimming out as far as I could before mama noticed, longing to swim with the dolphins.

I lived for the days of picnics on the beach, and I didn’t mind the sandy chips, knowing that when I jump in my bed that night the feeling of the waves would rock me to sleep. It never occurred to me that it wasn’t common to have your hair always smelling like salt, nor to always have rosy skin. Though, I’m not sure I would have minded even if it had. I lived for the days spent by water.

Nothing has changed in all the years, and I’m thankful for it. There’s not a day that goes by that I do not long to see the emerald waters or hear the waves crash against the shore. I’m glad to have had the childhood I did. Unconventional, perhaps, but it raised me, and the sea will always have me as a friend for it.

Pensacola Beach, Florida