cupcakemess

From my perspective, the ocean breathes. It's a slow, drawn breath that draws me to share it, almost teasing me to relax.

After traveling all week with work (Liz talks about that here and here), Travis and I ventured to Wrightsville Beach for a small getaway, a mere two-hour drive. It was the first time for me to see the Atlantic Ocean (because Coney Island doesn't count) and it didn't disappoint.

The sand is remarkably fine, like flour and butter pulsed together to a powder, wet consistency. The shells are soft and rounded like river stones.The waves are endless.

True story - in Hawaii and California, I won't get in the water. The pull freaks me out and I revert to toddler-like fear. At Wrightsville, the only thing I want to do is be in that water.

Either I'm changing perspectives or the East coast just fits. I'm okay with both.