first day at the beach

the water is so cold it hurts, but we tentatively tiptoe forward, deeper and deeper. it's at my waist now, and a passing wave crashes into my midsection. i shiver and shake, but remain resolute. he's ahead of me, being taller he's not quite waist-deep yet, but i can tell he's just as cold as me. "shit! this is cold!" he exclaims, confirming my suspicion. well, not quite a suspicion, you'd have to be cold-blooded to enjoy this. a few weeks ago it was in the low 40s and rained, rained, and rained. but it's june now so we have to go in, by my rules. we didn't make this trip for me to sit and burn for hours. suddenly he looks at me with the devilish lopsided grin he gets when he is thinking about picking me up and tossing me onto the bed to smother me in kisses, or starting a tickle fight... a look of pure joyous mischief. i imagine that this is what he looked like as a little boy, with a less square jaw and longer hair which was always too kinked to spike like he wanted it. but while i am thinking, he springs into action and pushes some water in my direction. "you're dead!" i say, laughing, and he wades into deeper water ahead of me. "i'm taller!" he says, laughing. i futilely splash some water in his direction, but forget our quarrel when a sudden moment of courage comes over me. i lift my head and stare out into the water for a second, and then dive in headlong. it's absolutely freezing, but i think i've been in colder, remembering the dull headache that accompanied the many may swims of my life. he's gone under now, and propels himself forward. he's a much better swimmer than i would have guessed, although i'm not sure why not-- his skinny body and sinewy strength is perfectly suited for it. we hop around for a few minutes, but the water is unfailingly cold-- how has that little boy been sitting in the surf for hours and not turned blue? we make our way out of the waves, lumbering. i always think it is a humbling moment, walking clumsily out of the water as though weights were attached to my ankles. almost no one can look entirely graceful doing it, ever watchful of waves that might come up from behind. we grasp hands and dig our toes into the sand, the warm air hitting our cool, salty skin. i think that i am the happiest in that moment that i can ever possibly be-- it's a kind of peaceful contentment that i know i am lucky to feel. i know i am lucky to be a part of this moment, and i wish it would never end.