Some things are guaranteed to shake one out of a funk. No matter how deeply one might have mired oneself in grumpiness and irritability and pure disdain for bureaucracy and the fuck-wittedness of the general public -- nothing rescues you like a trip to the beach.
The delightfully Tinkerbellian Little Owl already told the best moments. It is all of that.
It is also running around without your shirt on, eating ice cream on the boardwalk.
It is looking at your untanned self at the end of the day and sighing, only to smile when the first red blush of a burn starts to show up hours later, where the back of your legs and your shoulders were exposed to the sun while you laid on cool white sheets in the sand and did a crossword puzzle with a purple pen.
It is splashing your boyfriend with sea water and trying but not being able to make out underwater because the whole ocean would go straight up your nose.
It is imagining the sailboat just on the edge of the horizon slowly tipping on its side as it falls off the edge of the world.
It is this exchange:
Biscuit: (staring blankly into space)
Kate: Biscuit? You okay?
Biscuit: (shaking head quickly and looking up with a bright smile) Huh? Haha, what?
Kate: Hahaha! It's like all the pixie dust in your head settled to the bottom for a second and you just shook it all back up and you're smiling again!
And it is standing tall in the water, yelling excitedly in crescendo as a wave breaks and curls towards you, focusing on the tumbling sight and roaring sound, leaping as high as you can go so the rushing white smacks you hard in the chest, fighting to stay upright, fiercely denying the world the right to knock you over, shaking out your hair and wiping your eyes, laughing, shouting, and spinning back to look for the next one.