Beach scenes: Loving summer, having a blast


Arriving early to a Southern California beach during the summer is certainly no guarantee that you’ll have a front row view of the ocean.

Kerri writes. (Kerri S. Mabee)

Kerri writes at the beach. (Kerri S. Mabee)

No matter how close you may position yourself to the lapping waves, there will always be some group or family to come along and settle themselves directly in front of you.

It’s a big ocean, so no worries, but this day, I am so grateful for that family.

So grateful for how they marched in a single-file line, trudging in the sand and lugging their chairs and coolers and blankets with one hand, while securing their hats and blouses against a stiff breeze with the other.

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I am grateful for the mother who led the charge, bringing with her an air of authority and a strangely-placed fragrance of Chanel 19 that wafted a full eight feet in front of her. I am grateful for how she set to work immediately applying sunscreen on her two young sons, while simultaneously kicking open lawn chairs, snapping out beach towels and planting an enormous umbrella in the sand.

I am grateful for her husband who watched her.

I am grateful for how she made quick work of the lunch, securing baggies of chips and sandwiches and popping open drinks for her crew before they made a mad dash to the sea.

I am grateful for her husband who watched her.

I am grateful for how she raced to the water’s edge, her hand raised to shield her eyes from the sun and assist her view of her sons as she called to them and kept a brisk pace as they swam along with a too-high tide.

I am grateful for her husband who watched her.

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I am grateful for how she raced to catch the umbrella that had blown over and was now hurtling downwind, how she recovered the scoundrel and brought him back to their spot, wrestled him into the sand and held him with one hand, while the other continued to scan the horizon for her boys.

I am grateful for her husband who still watched her, now dabbing a bit of sunscreen on his face.

And I am so grateful for the white-haired grandmother who shimmied herself out of her sheer white panties and matching bra, in plain view. And how she slid on her bikini bottoms, squatting and scooping for a good fit, then pulled on her top and lifted and stuffed her bosom into the cups — in plain view. And I am especially grateful for the perky little tattoo on her saggy skin and perched just above her sliding backside.

Did the husband watch this display? Not sure. I was too mesmerized to notice by this time.

Were it not for this family, I would not have been so entertained, nor so inspired to write. Because any writer worth her salt knows that such a scene deserves a word or two. Especially with the beautiful Pacific serving as the backdrop.

Kerri S. Mabee is managing editor at and founder of Breeze Media & Communications. Learn more about her at Follow @EducatedWriter.



Kerri S. Mabee

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