Swishhh. Swishhhh. Swishhhh. The dark blue curls turned over and over, creating a whoosh that rung in my ears. It was a sweet sound, one that is a fond reminiscence of peace. The continuous melodies of the waves can be transferred across the world inside one little shell. The bitter, yet intriguing, smell of the goliaths permeated the air for several miles inland. The aqua blue water charged toward me like horse chariots during battle. I surveyed the water and saw these giants at their peak standing 8 feet over my little brother and his banana boogey board. They crashed down upon him, but he gracefully came shooting out of the water seconds later, a big smile on his face despite the angry wave that just came screaming down upon him. He and I would not trade those monstrous waves for anything.

The ice-cold water crept up toward me in my chair, slowly covering more and more sand as the day goes on. The granulated pebbles upon the shore kissed the water hello and goodbye every few seconds. I traced the fading line of sand all the way back up to my toes. I wiggled them and could hear the soft crunch of sand. The feeling of sand between your toes is the feeling of bliss. But then my attention was diverted from my toes as an easily recognizable smell paraded into my nostrils. It was the smell of summer- a fruity scented paradise. Sunscreen.

There was a tower that sat up on the beach. When I was younger, I aspired to be the man sitting up there- being the hero, saving lives. The tower was a faded blue, nearly white from the sun damage. The once rosy red numbers on the side were now the color of Bazooka bubble gum. Lifeguard tower 25. This is the tower I have sat south of every summer for many years.

Losing track of time again, I had failed to realize God had been splashing yellow, orange, and red paint across the sky, displaying to California his fine art capabilities. I sat in awe of the gorgeous sunset, letting the masterpiece leave its footprint in my mind once again before I picked up my chair and left, only to return again next summer.