Page 8 of SaaS & Class

There was a line of honking cars waiting to pull into the beach parking lot. After waiting for a couple of minutes, I craned my neck to see if I could see what was causing the holdup, and it looked like somebody in a pickup truck was stopped at the entrance.

The person holding up the line finally pulled forward, and we all moved as regular flow resumed.

I picked a spot toward the middle of the lot rather than fight for prime parking when I didn’t have anything heavy to carry.

A line of people had formed at the pay kiosk, and I was glad that I’d paid for an annual pass as I walked toward the beach.

Beachcombers taking advantage of low tide pulled metal detectors, buckets, and shovels from trunks. Surfers inspected their gear on the open tailgates of their trucks, while photographers bundled against the chill schlepped tripods and camera bags down the path.

I waved to familiar faces as I walked: a former student who’d become a lifeguard and would have to report on surf conditions in less than an hour, a retired history teacher who liked to walk her dog along the beach in the mornings. A landscape artist who focused on the ocean called my name and held up his paintbrush in greeting.

I meandered over to where several beach acquaintances were setting out towels and found my spot among them. We’d formed a loose group over the years, and we looked out for each other. One was a yoga teacher who sometimes led an informal session with anybody who wanted to join. Others would form small walking groups, while some just liked to enjoy the mornings and chat.

“Morning Brent,” said a young woman who was a regular in the group.

“Morning, Rosie. What’s on your agenda today?”

“I think I’m gonna see if Cole is going to do a yoga session. If not, then I’ll probably walk for a bit. What about you?”

“I’ll probably chat for a while, then catch a later round of walkers.”

“Cool.” She paused and looked around. “Was there anybody selling food in the parking lot when you got here?”

“Not that I saw.”

She looked around again, made a face, and plopped on the sand. “Damn.”

I blinked and scanned the beach. “I see the burrito lady’s umbrella.”

“Eh… Maybe in a few more minutes. You missed it last weekend, but there was somebody selling pastries from the trunk of his car. I got a killer danish, and they had a ham, egg, and cheese sandwich on homemade croissants. I was hoping to see him again.”

“Well, hopefully you will. I think I’m going to get a burrito before she runs out.”

“I’ll watch your towel.”

“Thanks.”

I strode over to where a small line of people had lined up to buy burritos, secured my breakfast, then returned to my towel. I returned the favor of watching Rosie’s things as she went out to check the parking lot, and she was elated when she returned with her pastries.

We ate and chatted as more people trickled over, then she moved her towel as Cole started an informal yoga session.

I laid back on my towel and closed my eyes to savor the experience. A breeze carried the sound and scent of the water against the sand. Gulls called overhead. Behind me came the rising din of an awakening city: horns as traffic backed up, voices bounced from concrete and brick, music and machinery vied for the label of background noise.

“Book chat,” somebody announced.

I got up and moved my towel to join in. The fog burned off as we chatted about our recent reads, and about half of us were ready for a walk once the discussion was done.

It was just the kind of morning I’d needed to decompress after the last week of school.

The sun had climbed high in the sky by the time our walk was over, my hoodie tied around my waist since it was too warm to wear.

A good portion of our group had drifted away as the morning progressed, and as I looked around the increasingly crowded beach, I decided that it was time for me to leave, too.

I thought about where I wanted to go for lunch as I packed my things and said my farewells, then I started back towards my car.

I could stop at one of the licensed food trucks in the parking lot… or…

I froze as I smelled something absolutely incredible. But it wasn’t food.