Friday, May 27, 2005

Letter to Nature

Okay, nature. I am not religious. I don't worship gods or fairies or tree sprites. I don't salute the four directions every day. I'm just an average girl who does her best to recycle and not litter. I have a good amount of love for your amber waves of grain and fruited plains. But I don't want anything to do with those things this weekend. I am looking for a shining sea. And do you know what we need to make the sea shine? What I haven't seen in over a week?
The sun. Monsieur Soliel. A bright orb of life-creating light.
Here's what's going to happen. I am going to Rhode Island today. My bathing suit is in my duffel bag. I am doing fun indoor things this afternoon, such as shopping and drinking. Tomorrow, I am getting up. I am doing some laundry. I will hang out with my mother. Around noon, I am getting in the fuel-efficient Focus. I am driving to the beach. I will pay my exorbitant walk-on fee, set up my blanket and read my book. I may even get daring and hop in the calming, cold salty water, feel the tug of the waves, probably get plunked in the head with a few tall swells. I'm going to order a Dells. Maybe even run a little.
I am going to the beach regardless of what you choose to do to me, nature. You may be overcast. You may pour rain. Send up your blowiest winds. Do your worst. My name is Amy and I shall fight you tooth and hail. My toes will be sandy. My Mom will yell at me for sullying the new car. I have been fantasizing about sand and shells, the feeling of the warm sun on my back and flip-flops since I returned from Florida in February. The fact it's taken me this long to even have the opportunity is sick. Please? I'm begging you. Give this little Leo her sunshine. Our weather forecasters have said Saturday will be nice. Please don't change this. I love the beach and I'm waking up in the night, heart racing, skin tingling with even the possibility of laying in the sun, listening to the waves crash.
So I'm going anyway. Rain, hail, winds, whatever. This pasty white girl will be on your golden shore, dreaming of clamcakes and chowder. You can make it pleasant if you'd like. But I'll be there with bikini on no matter how hard you try to make me leave.
Thank you.

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