I did not grow up going to beaches as a child. Neither of my parents cared for the sun and the heat. But I went several times as a high school and then college student, and I got hooked.
I love sitting or walking along the beach. I could watch the waves, with the salty air pushing my hair in every direction, for hours a day.
We usually take the kids to the beach twice a year. These are usually short, 2-4 day trips. Like me, my children are not adventurous in the ocean. They skirt along the edges, and jump into the waves that crest and crash right along the shoreline. They pick up shells, poke at dead jellyfish with a stick, and build forts in the sand.
Last week, for Spring Break, we made a very last minute trip to Isle of Palms, South Carolina. It’s about 20 minutes north of Charleston.
We spent the first half of the two days at the beach, then made our way to Sullivan’s Island (to visit Fort Moultrie) and Charleston for a carriage ride through the historic districts.
But by far, we loved the beach the most.
(My 2-year old, in heaven.)