I go to the beach fairly frequently, I think. It’s one of the benefits of living so close to the coast – I tend not to think about it, but I have easier access to ocean than a lot of people.
Throughout my childhood, there was one specific beach – a relatively small area, a short (read: “possible with small children”) drive away from the house we always stayed at – that I especially loved.
We called it Driftwood Beach.
Driftwood Beach is a little ways off the highway, with a small parking lot that offers a couple paths to the beach itself. Note that the picture above doesn’t actually lead to the beach – we took a wrong turn, and I took a picture.
There’s a very good reason I call it Driftwood Beach.
No, it was about the raw creativity it inspired. We’d go there, and myself and my cousins and my uncles and my grandpa would start building some shelters while my mom and aunts and grandma would watch, or maybe take some pictures of their own.