One of my South Bay stay’s highlights was being close to the ocean. I fondly recall when growing up in Gardena how my family spent time at the seaside. When bringing my own sons to California, a trip or two to the beach was always an important part of our itinerary.
Given the leisurely pace of this visit, I logged six dips in the Pacific over my seven days in town. Being in that luscious saltwater made me smile, but so did smelling the cool breeze, gazing over the water, and laying on the warm sand. Heck, I even had a good time parking the car.
One of my South Bay stay’s highlights was being close to the ocean. I fondly recall when growing up in Gardena how my family spent time at the seaside. When bringing my own sons to California, a trip or two to the beach was always an important part of our itinerary.
Given the leisurely pace of this visit, I logged six dips in the Pacific over my seven days in town. Being in that luscious saltwater made me smile, but so did smelling the cool breeze, gazing over the water, and laying on the warm sand. Heck, I even had a good time parking the car.
Spent most of my time near the water in Redondo. It seems to me a public beach like that is a great social leveler. Unlike more exclusive spots of shoreline in, say, Malibu or, for all I know, St. Tropez, the people dotting the oceanfront were just regular folks.
That is, it felt like we were all equal there. A tightly toned and tanned beach physique was the exception; rather, there were plenty of bodies in better shape than yours or mine, and there were lots of people who would never, ever be swimsuit models.
Nevertheless, most everyone wore swimsuits, and that’s a good thing. With very few exceptions, the beach is not a place for preening, it is where one savers the sun, sand, and surf. I watched as hosts of beachgoers, unselfconscious about how well or poorly their trunks or bikinis fit, hauled themselves in and out of the waves. Then again, some people were there without swimwear, and seemed unconcerned about that fact, taking to the water in slacks, shirts, and dresses.
Clutches of bathers, sometimes three generations at a time, laughed and shouted above the oceans roar. Tiny children shrieked when a stray wave caught their ankles on a previously dry spot of sand. Their parents and their grandparents did the same.
Some folks came alone or as couples, bringing only a towel and water bottle. Some groups of family or friends set up huge outposts on the sand, with tents or umbrellas, and often coolers packed with soft drinks and sandwiches.
I shared the beach with plenty of tourists, foreign and domestic. Any number of unfamiliar tongues could be heard urging their compatriots to pose for photographs, while other overheard conversations confirmed that day’s seashore experience would be related in detail to friends back in Iowa, Wyoming, Tennessee, and elsewhere.
Time and again, I shuffled to the water’s edge and plunged into the churning sea. The water was cool, invigorating, and wonderfully salty; being lifted and pushed back to shore by the powerful waves while attempting to body surf was delightful.
Fact is, as long as I got to the shoreline for a swim and a sit on the sand, my day was a success no matter what else I had or hadn’t accomplished.
I’ll bet it’s been too long since you were at the beach. After all, you’re awfully busy, and the ocean will always be there.
Do yourself a favor; head down for a salty splash to enjoy some refreshment for body and soul.
Pat Grimes, a former South Bay resident, writes from Ypsilanti, Mich. He can be reached at pgwriter@inbox.com
