The Beach

I live in Rochester, NY, and I've been to the beach twice in the past three days.

Well, it isn't really the beach. There's no white sand or ocean, and the sun doesn't blaze overhead with that baking brightness of the tropics. There are no waves or palm trees, and there isn't any boardwalk. There isn't even the smell of salt. But there is a lovely pebble and sand shore that goes up to the gray waters of Lake Ontario, and as the clouds roll on overhead you can enjoy the shrieks of little children splashing in the water.

J's parents took us to Hamlin Beach State Park on Tuesday, and it was James' first time "swimming" at the beach. We put him in swim trunks, sandals, and a swimmy diaper, and drove a half hour north up to the lake. As soon as I took him out of the car he pointed at the water in fascination. I walked him up to the edge of the shore, stripped my sneakers off, and put a toe in. It was very cold. I set him down in the wet sand to see what he'd do. He immediately ran into the water and began laughing uproariously. Then he attempted to run further out into the lake and immediately pitched headfirst into the water.

He cried for a bit, and then the water was funny again. He spent most of Tuesdays throwing all of the rocks he could get his little hands on into the water.

My Mom and Dad used to take us up to the lake quite regularly, and their fussing about "staying safe" on the big boulders beside the water always bothered me. All five boys would hop from rock to rock, scrambling up the steep boulder sized rocks and jumping over the cracks between them. We thought we were quite the nimble boulderers, and what was all the fuss about.

As I watched my own son climb the big lakeside rocks on Tuesday, I got a taste of what my parents saw. I saw little sandal-shod feet slipping off of steep edges, and I caught him mid-fall more than once. I saw crannies with sharp edges and caves where slithery things lie hidden. I saw jumps that were too big to be attempted and slippery angles with falls into deep water. In short, I saw all the things that made scrambling on the rocks so appealing to James.

Among his other dangerous moments:
Climbing up playground equipment intended for much bigger children.
Insisting on climbing up a nine foot slide ladder by himself
Almost pitching off the top of said slide when his foot got caught on the way down
Attempting cartwheels that he saw his friend doing in the grass
Trying to "swim" on his own
Picking up rubbish from the sand

We went back again today with Pax, Kylie, and their little friend Grace. He was completely uninterested in the water, but we spent several hours sliding, swinging (especially under-duckies), and playing with the Nerf football.

And as we shared a bowl of Abbott's on the way back home, I thought: Who needs Myrtle Beach?