Perdido: Day 2

As the old saying goes, even a bad day on vacation is better than a good day at work. Today was definitely not a bad day, though. Went down to the beach around 10:00 or so; this time we were ready for Ellie to go a little deeper into the ocean. Theresa doesn't like getting into the ocean: too many critters for her. I, on the other hand, find that the best part of the beach. Ellie did really well out there. Of course I hung onto her the whole time (and she held onto me) and she had a lifejacket on, but near the end she was wanting a little more freedom...and even let go of me for a little while to kick her legs and so on. Good times. I'm glad she's not afraid of the ocean...but that also means we'll have to keep an eye on her. At one point I thought how cool it was to be out there with my daughter. I have a lot of fond memories of me and my mother digging around for sand dollars, snorkeling with a diving mask while looking for fish, and riding the waves in as I swam. Now I've started making new memories...and more importantly watching my daughter make her own. Well, she probably won't remember much of this, but she certainly will in the future.

It was mercilessly hot today. I spotted a bank clock that said it was 108. I don't think it was THAT hot, but it touched 100 easily. That meant that we had a short morning beach session and went back after the sun started going down.

Something that has always stuck with me about the ocean is it's timelessness. As we would look at vacation pictures, my mom used to always remark when she'd see pictures of the ocean that the waves are crashing there now, just like they did on our trip. They'll be crashing long after we leave here too, just like they've been when the first Spanish explorers visited this island and named it, just like they've been crashing for the past 1,000, 10,000, and 100,000 years. It helps you put things into perspective a bit, I think. The ocean is so vast, so powerful, and the footprints Ellie, Theresa, and I left there today are probably gone by now...or certainly will be in the next few days. Replaced with other footprints, washed away by the tide. What does that mean? I don't know...maybe that we just need to enjoy what little time we have. The tide always comes in and takes a part of us with it...concentrate on "now" and less on what's "next."

Tomorrow: early morning at the beach, off to a zoo (a very meager zoo from what I understand), naptime for Ellie (and probably us too), then maybe a couple of hours at a water park. Life is good.