Just a day at the beach.

I love the ocean.  It's always so alive and constantly moving and changing.  I can sit at the end of the pier that extends a half mile out into the blue green depths and watch the turquoise swales rise up, roll onto shore, and then crash into a white, frothy foam against the sugar sand of the gulf shore beaches.  It's like swaying gently in a hammock while sitting still on my bench.  Even with the roar of the waves all around, it's still serene and peaceful.  A gull screeches behind me.  A pelican inches his way towards my bag, convinced I'm hiding a juicy mackerel in there somewhere.  Just off the pier I hear the puff of air as two dolphins pop above the surf for a quick breath of air.  The wind is blowing hard, so hard it tears the hat from my head and into the open sea.  Two boys fishing for cobia run with their poles to my rescue and cast their large hooks at it in an attempt to rescue it for me.  Alas, the sea prevails and I am forced to walk the half mile back to the truck to fetch another one.  No worries though, the walk is pleasant and I breathe deep to take in the warm salty air.  Somehow at the ocean, having the wind whip my hair around my face is exciting and it exhilarates me.  Wearing just a light sweater is no problem because the winds here aren't cruel  like the winds at home.  The winds at home nip and bite and blast through many layers of clothes and laugh wickedly as you shiver and hurry to escape them.  Not so with the ocean winds.  They caress your skin and gently cool it without taking any heat from you body.  They giggle softly as they swirl about your ears and call, "come play with us.".  Now, in spite of the serenity and beauty, let's not forget that we are still the Shaws, and where the Shaws go, so goes weirdness.  Enter Cody, the most annoying fisherman on the planet.  Let me preface with, fishing is not really a spectator sport and does not require a running commentary.  In fact, long intervals of uninterrupted silence is generally the acceptable practice.  So, back to Cody.  We arrive at the Ft. Pickens pier to discover Cody, the gym shorts wearing, beer gut wielding "fisherman" and his camo clad newbie.  They have their equipment scattered from one end of the pier to the other.   There are empty cat litter buckets tied with ropes to the side of the pier.  (No, I do not know what for).  They have a variety of no less than 10 fishing poles lined up along the rails and secured with bungee cords so the killer whales I can only assume they thought they were going to catch, will not snatch their poles off the rail.  They have cast nets and drop nets and shark poles and shrimp poles, and Cody generously offered to let Jay use any of his equipment he wanted to.  All Jay really wanted was for Cody to shut up and leave him alone.  Cody happily chattered on about all his fishing experiences and stood next to Jay rattling off an endless barrage of questions.  I just sat back and watched carefully as Jay's trigger finger started to twitch.  The coupe de gras came when Jay got a tangle in his line and as he was working it out, Cody actually reached in and attempted to help him.  I jumped from my chair and braced myself to tackle Cody out of harm's way if I saw Jay go for his gun.  As it turned out, this was Cody's lucky day.  Jay just snapped, "I got it!", and in the first intelligent moment Cody had shown since we arrived, he backed away and said, "okay".  About that point, Jay decided it was in Cody's best interest that we go fish at the Navarre pier.  Once at the truck, I gave Jay a big kiss and told him he deserved a medal for his amazing self restraint, but the kiss would have to do.  Jay just has this salty old fisherman look about him that seems to attract people.  Even at the Navarre pier a young man fishing at the end of the pier came to chat with him at the rail.  A least this boy was an intelligent, respectful one who understood the unspoken rules of pier fishing and allowed the appropriate intervals of silence between his intelligent and relevant comments.  I have lived a lifetime in the beautiful mountains and forests of Idaho.  I have been inspired by the grandeur and beauty of a sunny mountain springtime and the glorious warm orange of fall, but I had never experienced paradise until I came to stay on the breathtaking beaches of the Florida panhandle.