This was a sweet day last month that I hadn’t gotten around to logging, but the kids and I were looking for a easy access beach to frolic on and came across this one in Carmel, which is about a 45 minute drive from us. We had the sweetest drive around the winding ocean front road, peering at all the driveways with “race cars” lined up in them (see: fancy houses) and either singing or chatting away. Kate loved playing with the sand but locked up every time she had to walk on it, so I found myself carrying Emma in her car seat and Kate (i had my fair share of sweaty moments).
Being on the beach with the kids is so nostalgic for me. Most weekends as a child from early spring to early fall each year were spent walking the railroad tracks with my mom to play at the beach. I look back and imagine that’s where she got a good amount of her reading done. Balancing on the long railroad beams or skipping from wood step to wood step, trying not to get rocks in my sandals as we went. Setting up camp, arranging all my sand toys and then running back and forth with a bucket between the waves and my little world I’d created, adding water to my moats or baked creations.
Mostly, the kids ran around playing race cars and scooping up the fine white sands in their little hands, asking me to chase them every few minutes. We made it back to the car, poured out half the beach at our feet and moseyed home, stopping for a much needed coffee and trip to the farm stand.