Beach Fix

Yesterday afternoon we drove down to Popham Beach. Easily our favorite beach in Maine, Popham rarely disappoints. We were especially curious to see it this year since the Sheepscot River, which feeds into the ocean here, had mysteriously changed course during the winter. It now flows parallel to the shore in one spot, cutting a ledge into the sand and preventing us from walking out to the island as we had in years past. Huh. Weird.

Further down the beach, we found some nice crashy waves as the tide began to roll in. Daddy Shortbread and Bug are mostly of the Stand and Let the Waves Smack Into You school of thought. That's fine. If you're a WUSS.

What you may or may not know about me is that I have all the self-restraint of a lemming at the ocean. Good-sized waves mean only one thing: BODY SURFING!

I should also mention that, before you scroll down to the next photo, you would do well to remember that I have the photographic goods on most of you, so to speak. Whether you know it or not. Meaning, don't get any wise ideas about using this picture for future sabotage if you don't want equally flattering pictures of thineself showing up on this blog. Or on a billboard.

Bear and I even convinced Bug to try a few waves. She was pretty game until she scratched her foot on a shell. Then she went back to Daddy Shortbread and their Wussy Standing Method. Bear and I continued hurling ourselves at waves willy-nilly, despite the resultant wardrobe malfunctions and pulled muscles. We had a blast and wound up with sand in many interesting places.

I had to enlarge this one for you (hence the blur). Bear kept saying, "I think I'm done getting wet. I'm going to dry off now." Two minutes later, she was right back in the surf.
Body Surfing: It Ain't Always Pretty, But Dang It's Fun.