Just go with it

Today's version of joy I found at a beach. Not just some random beach, but a beach that I've never visited before, as I was very generously invited by friends who are much too kind and genuine and humble to ever speak aloud that they have deeded beach rights to their own private beach. But they do, and they deserve it, because they've worked indescribably hard every day for the last 30 years and have earned that and so much more. And it was magnificent.

I brought my nieces, and sandwiches, and towels and sunblock. Truly beloved friends came, too. Waves broke, clouds rolled, boats launched, starfish were found (alive!), and all was right with the world; simple honest it-really-doesn't-get-any-fucking-better-than-this pleasures. We drank a little - private beach, remember? - and the joy came not from the beer or rum or vodka, but by osmosis and by proximity; it was everywhere, unavoidable. Today I happened to be paying attention, and I embraced it, gratefully.

It is said that lightning never strikes the same place twice, but I'm going back there again tomorrow; I accept and relish my joy wherever I'm able, so I'm just going with it.