Sunday, August 10, 2014
Pacific and Atlantic
Yesterday, Oliver and I swam in the Pacific, me up to my waist in blue water with seaweed wrapped around my ankles and Oliver all the way in, laughing and sputtering. The beach was an uncharacteristic gray yesterday, but the water was the perfect temperature -- the kind of cold that takes you a moment to acclimate to but then restores to what, for me, I imagine is my primitive, free self. The Pacific is infinitely colder than the Atlantic, at least the Atlantic of the south, and much of the year it's frigid cold, but in August and September, it's just about perfect. I've morphed into a Californian, and my boys are natives. Oliver agreed with me that the ocean in Hilton Head, where we most recently submerged ourselves, is more like a bathtub than anything else, and while that easy, gentle warmth is relaxing, the bracing blue of the Pacific is what we really love. And there are no jellyfish! Oliver shouted to me, over the roar of the surf.