This weekend I went fossil hunting. Really. On the beach at Stratford Hall. I found a small shark's tooth (with help from a trained paleontologist!) washed up on the sand. The wind was blowing and the air carried that smell. You know the one I'm talking about. The damp beachy smell. Ahh.
I've decided that I was meant to live by water. I don't want to swim in it, I just want to be by it and smell it and hear the waves crashing (or lapping). When I lived in a noisy apartment, I had one of those sound machines that has a variety of atmospheres (rainforest, bubbling brook, etc.), but I always would pick the waves crashing one when it was time to go to sleep. Just so relaxing.
But because I live in a little house in a small city, I need to get my beach on when I can.