Tuesday, July 10, 2007

The Beach: A love affair with people watching, Frisbee and Bocce

Time at the beach, a love affair with people watching, frisbee and Bocce - Part I (Observations by Kent).

Sunday, we slept in after our late night affair.

Our mission today, with out a doubt, was to indulge ourselves one last time at the beach. Penna Grossa Beach and Natural Park, is the beach of choice among Bridisians. The beach is a narrow strip of sand that is protected by large looming sand dunes that overlook the sea. The dunes are fenced oft to beach patrons. Thus, they are dotted and covered with native grasses, shrubs and plants.

Lori and Jeff spent some time snorkeling and discovering marine life. While they were snorkeling, I went for a run on a beach access road. I managed to run out to a look-out point that was home to an old tower along with some WW-II bunkers. I squeezed in some speed-work on the way back to the beach and worked up a good heart-pounding sweat. The promise of a cool, refreshing and revitalizing dip in the sea awaited me. When I returned to the beach, I stopped at the wooden cat-walk to remove my running shoes and reminisced about a scene that I had witnessed at that some spot, just a few short days before.

On a previous run at the beach, upon completion, I witnessed a typical normal yet painstaking vignette. Among all of the chaos of bodies at the beach where the families hang out and frolic, A young parental couple was enjoying their time at the beach. They were lounging, chatting, and stealing a brief, tender moment while their children idyllically played in the sand near-by them. It was at that moment when "a fun day at the beach" for this family turned sour.

The two children, roughly ages 2 and 3 ½ were playing in the sand, making sand-castles and mud-pies. The female child, who appeared to be the younger of the two, did not like what her older brother was up too. She quickly became agitated. For at that moment, she chose to inform him that his presence, gracious acts of management, and feats of engineering were NO LONGER NEEDED or Wanted by her. She then proceeded to bite him in the arm, his closest appendage. She clamped down her jaw with force and tenacity. She locked on to her brother’s arm, with her menacing baby teeth. He writhed in agony, crying and paralyzed, unable to escape his baby sister’s terror chomp. This young boy sat there in utter pain, frozen in bewilderment and unable to move, until his parents, who were shocked out of their moment of tenderness, intervened. Finally, the 2 year old’s ‘gator chomp was released. The young boy grateful to be free glanced down to his arm to discover that YES, his baby sister broke the skin of his arm and "drew-first-blood". Again he was astonished, revisited with confusion and despair, as he looked up to his mother for solace and advice. The mother pointed to the sea and sent her son down to the magical healing waters of the Adriatic. He proceeded to follow her command, as he gingerly held his bleeding arm and limped down to the water. Meanwhile, their father reprimanded the innocent looking carnivorous blonde haired child. The young boy returned from his medicinal trip to sea, and gallantly resumed his place in the sand. He seemed to throw caution out the window, knowing that his parents were officiating, having thrown the "Red Card" at his baby sister. She, however, had her own agenda and was not going to be strayed....Yeah, she pouted a bit as she was reprimanded for tearing flesh out of her brother's arm...but in short-time she was playing in the sand with her little shovel....amicably with her brother.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

What a moving account of a family disturbance. Like a bolder rolling down a hill I read each sentence faster than the previous. Unable to see the magnitude of the mountain that lies out before me I prepare myself for the worst. The anticipation was real; could this pure little boy loose his arm? Will he soon be fitted for a hook? Alas, a little magic saltwater, a tender touch from his mother and all is well with the world.

-Tweedle