Vintage Closetblonde: A Visit to the Beach

And they said I couldn't write. Poetic prose, Closetblonde age 14. Even then I was trying to escape from camping...... I remember this moment well. It was the first and last time I've ever felt free.

There was something deliciously exciting and perhaps a little devilish about clumsily groping within the darkness to hurriedly bundle a soft, warm sleeping bag to a manageable size so it could fit under one arm. We desperately tried to control the violent urges of sweet sounding laughter surging and bubbling upwards to our mouths, like a fizzy drink that had been haphazardly shaken. We waited for the sounds of feet upon the red dusty coloured pebbles, along with the voices of the OTHERS, and the sharp bright glares of numerous torches swinging carelessly like lighthouses that were malfunctioning, to pass our cottage. After the moment had passed, we let out involuntary sighs of relief, gratefully gulping the cool, sweet night air to replenish the vital supply of oxygen to our momentarily deprived cells. Tonight was Skit Night. It was the chance for the OTHERS, the vain, pretentious and obnoxious fools with ample amounts of self confidence, to boast, bluster and display their so called abilities. It was their night.

Our night began tentatively within the darkness of the room by whispers from lips to ears. Our plans were like talks of mutiny among sailors of past times, of how to successfullly avoid the watchful eagle eyes of the camp leaders. After agreeing upon a considerably flawed plan, we gingerly crept out of the cottage, grimacing at every squeak and creak the worn wood of the vernada made due to the weight of our bodies. We shuddered at every pebbling crunching, rolling and rattling beneath every step, and ignored the seething dull blunt pain that bruised our soft, fair and un-calloused feet. We crouched concealing ourselves among the wild gum trees with sudden apprehension, expecting some authoritative person to foil our plan of escape. With the unexpected anticlimax dissipating our uneasiness and cautiousness into the atmosphere, we broke out in tremendous audacity to fearlessly run onto the damp, luscious field of grass, defiantly running out of our boundaries and restricitons. Sprinting with our adrenaline pumping and our muscles working at top speed, our minds focus upon the beach ahead. Aches and breathlessness could not spoilt the uppermost feeling of euphoria. Even the abrasive stoned steps leading ot the beach, that cruelly stung soles used to the softest socks, could not prevent us from feeling that the highest form of freedom and happiness was ours to keep. Our laughter, pure blissfulness, sounded gold and silver, and reverberated around us in perfect harmony. It was like a precious gift to the gods above in thanks and gratitude that the beach was in the proximinty of the camp, and that we had escaped the OTHERS.

The beach was serene, tranquil and untouched by the inhabitnats of the day. Its natural beauty enabled it to look wild, uninhabited and yet so quiet and inviting, making the place ours in that instant. We ran without retrains like light-hearted children so unaware of the dangers of the world, kicking the grains of powdery white sand, moving further away from the camp. Deeply breathing in the sharp and tangy smells of the sea and the beach, we flopped upon the cool, soft powder like sand and cover our bodies with the warm sleeping bag. The sun had almost set, changing the clear cloudless sky to rich colours from dark blue to rich burgundy orange, and a hint of cornflower blue so small, that it almost went unnoticed. The last of the sun's light altered the pale blue waters to become iridescent. The inevitable moment appeared when the last of the perfectly circular golden rim of the sun suspended upon the sky, fought to prevent itself from disappearing behind the hills far away. The magic of that instant occured simultaneously in one sensusous display, as the sun disappeared from the world. More beauty was to be unveiled and unfolded before our eyes. The city lights across the translucent waters twinkled mischievously before our astonishment. The sky darkened to a deep navy to slowly reveal the first stars of the night, and a cool breeze playfully blew our glossy sun-streaked hair away from our faces. This morphing effect distinguishing the world from day and night left us exhilirated and satisfied, as we slowly lay down upon the soft bed of pure white sand.

Listening to the waves peacefully bubble upon the smooth wet sand enchanted us like nothing before. The crisp fresh smell of the evening air made us forget all our troubles, worries and anxieties, allowing us to focus on the beauty of the night. The luminous sky dotted with thousands of sparkling stars showed us how it twinkled in the past, travelling at the speed of light to our present. Most of all, the sky portrayed the look of a ceiling wall of paper that was alive to inspire us. The surrounding beauty broke down all barriers, bringing the bond between us to a different level that ran deeper than blood. Pure unrestrained fantasies of our ambitions and inspirations bubbled from our lips to form the most delightful conversations. Comments overflowed from our minds with ease were never so witty, sharp and humorous, and it was as if we were possessed with some special power, like a gift from the gods living among the stars. We languidly lay upon the sand that was warmed by our bodies. It speckled silver grains of crystal when reflected by milky yellow ribbons of moon beams. The moon, perfectly round and opaque allowed its beams to dance silver and diamond above the small bobbing waves. Time itself had stopped. We had eternity and yet so sadly, eternity was only ours for a limited time.

Amidst our talk and laughter, we felt the presence of good natured ghosts, ghouls and fairies shyly creeping closer to sit upon the silken sand, to listen and enjoy the warmth of our conversation. One may have been able to hear a faint chuckle of a fairy travelling through the wind like the melodious sounds of wind chimes, but this was not to be. A silhouette loomed over our faces before the sight of a shadow brandishing a blazing torch blinded us with the light. All the fairy folk, enigma and enchantment of the early hours of the morning fled from the beach, leaving the world seeming absurd and frivolous, and a stern camp leader berating and chastising us for our visit to the beach.