this was the weekend that ushered in summer. a ferry ride, salt air in our hair, everything familiar, everything new. standing on the beach with my toes digging in the sand, i was flooded with memories from childhood summers spent on this island. my kids hollering and splashing all around me and i was lost in reverie, busy remembering days spent at the beach in the company of cousins, grandparents, aunts and uncles, the bonfires, and the iced cold watermelon, sticky juices dribbling down my chin into my swimsuit, the salt drying on my skin.
we played in the sand and the surf, collected shells. we modeled seaweed hair and buried each other in sand. i walked along the beach holding memories close, breathing in the salt air, the sound of my kids’ laughter carried on the wind and wondered, what will they remember from this weekend?
amanda is a wife and mama to five littles. she lives in a tumble-down cottage in the deep south where kudzu and mosquitoes run amok. she is a daydreamer, list maker, writer, and coffee lover.