Slightly shameful admission as we head into the first week of summer: I’ve never really liked going to the beach.
In fact, the beach ruins a lot of activities that I enjoy doing in non-beach locations. I like picnics, for example, but not when my food is laced with sand. I like the sun, but I don’t want to place myself directly in the path of its rays for hours at a time. I like swimming, but stepping on rocks or shells or zebra mussels makes it less enjoyable. I like walking, but walking on sand feels like a waste of energy. Similarly, I like playing volleyball, but doing it on sand seems unnecessarily difficult.
And yet, every summer, I find myself at the beach.
It’s kind of unavoidable.
For a long time, if I was dragged to the seaside by a group of friends, my tactic would be to bring a book and pretend to be indoors. With headphones hugging my brain and a cheap crime novel a few inches from my face, I could almost achieve sensory denial of my situation.
But a strange thing has happened since having kids. Unable to deny them the childhood joys of going to the beach, I accepted that I would have to spend some time in one of my least favourite places. And the more I engaged in their favourite beach activities, the more I lost my dislike of being there.
There are still plenty of places I’d rather be, but I don’t feel the irrational contempt for sand and water that I used to.
This summer, if the sun feels to hot, or if walking on sand starts to bug me, or if I bite into a sandwich and feel the unwelcome abrasive effects of sand on my molars, I will try to calm myself by keeping this relaxing track by Monster Rally in my head.
What makes this a beautiful song:
1. The opening sample, in which a sleepy chorus of ‘oohs’ descends chromatically and lazily, like a beach-goer into a hammock.
2. The main sample has a vaguely Hawaiian feeling to it.
3. When the drums come in, it’s a bit more up-tempo than you might have expected. Like the quick-stepping feet of a toddler running towards an afternoon of sand and sun.
Recommended listening activity:
Making Dr. Seuss-style sandcastles by letting wet sand drip from your fingers.