July 24, 2000
DOWN HOME:
No matter what you do, you can't stop the waves
___We ended our vacation with a big splash.
___Fortunately, we were at the beach, where big splashes are the stuff of salty, sandy dreams.
___All week long, the waves had been great. We particularly enjoy paddling out 25 or 30 yards in innertubes and then letting the unending, methodical rhythm of the ocean wash us back to shore. We pick up speed as the undulating waves push us closer to the point wherethey crest and break with thunder and gusto. From there on in, each slap of the waves spanks innertube and rider hard toward that surging-then-ebbing line where water meets land. And then we get up and ride all over again--no ticket to punch, no waiting in line.
MARV KNOX
Editor
___The waves were great, all right. But their contents were horrible. Seaweed litters great stretches of the Gulf Coast this summer. Like buoyant bales of chopped bermuda, the seaweed clutters the coast and infiltrates eyes, ears and bathing suits.
___Early in the week, we could wade through a thin strip of seaweed and play in patches of clear coastal water. But by the end of the week, the surf looked like spinach soup, only stinkier.
___On the final day, we ventured several miles east, to a state park where-- miraculously, magnificently--the water was as clear and sparkling as we remembered from years past. And the waves still were great.
___Joanna, Lindsay, Molly and I lollygagged in the sun for a couple of hours. Finally, we decided to head back and hoped for a huge wave to help us send off this summer vacation.
___We got more than we bargained for. I floated slightly in front and to the left of Jo. As I looked over my right shoulder, I saw the wave swell under her tube, stretch her out and begin to pound her into the surf. Instantly, it turned me upside down, and I tumbled underwater, exultantly. As we arose, we heard Lindsay yell, "My sunglasses!" She put her hands to her face, where her new sunglasses had sat only seconds before.
___Jo and I struggled over to Lindsay, frantically searching the foaming surf for a glimpse of the glasses beneath three feet of water. No luck.
___Later, we both recalled wishing that if we could stop the waves for just one cycle, maybe we could find Lindsay's sunglasses. "I wanted to holler, 'Stop just a minute!'" Jo said. I did too.
___But we couldn't stop the waves, and by the time we could see through the foam, the force of the water had driven the glasses under the sand.
___Life is a lot like those waves. Unceasing, unrelenting, even unpredictable. But we are blessed that God carries us through, rides with us and gives us grace to enjoy the journey. Even when we can't see our feet, much less our sunglasses, beneath us.
___r
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