“Isn’t it hot?
Want to drive to the beach?”
my daughter asked with a smile.
I paused.
I had spent
more than six hours
on the highway yesterday.
I had also stayed up
finishing a blog post.
Driving another
three hours today
didn’t sound
very appealing.
But nothing else
was calling me either.
I didn’t feel like exercising.
I wasn’t in a hurry
to write.
“Okay.
Let’s go.
If we take our time,
it’ll be nice.”
The highway
was quieter
than we expected.
“The traffic
toward Seoul
looks busy.
We’re going
the other way.”
We parked
right in front of
a small seafood restaurant.
The owner prepared
fish
caught that morning.
Some of it
was sliced
with the tiny bones
still in.
It was chewy,
tender,
and incredibly fresh.
“I think
this is the best sashimi
I’ve ever had.”
We smiled,
finished everything,
including the spicy fish stew,
and then
walked into the sea.
Just My Feet
The beach next door
was crowded,
but this one
was peaceful.
“Oh…
the water
gets deep
very quickly.
That’s probably why
fewer people swim here.
But it actually looks
like a wonderful place
to swim.”
Cold seawater
washed over our feet
as we walked slowly
along the shore.
A little boy,
wearing goggles,
was swimming
underwater
from one end
to the other.
“Oh…
I’d love
to try that.”
My daughter smiled.
“There are
little fish.”
For a while,
we simply walked,
feeling
the water.
Then she changed
into her swimsuit
and went in.
Last summer,
I had swum
at a nearby beach,
showered afterward,
and ended up
with a bad summer cold.
So this time,
I brought
no swimsuit.
Just sandals.
Just my feet.
But standing there,
watching
the clear water,
I felt
a quiet desire.
Maybe someday,
I’d like
to swim here too.
A Different Kind of Enough
Sometimes,
a day doesn’t have to become
everything.
Sometimes,
your feet
are enough.
As we kept walking,
I noticed
an older woman.
She looked
to be
in her seventies.
She had set up
a white beach umbrella
all by herself.
Still wearing
her swimsuit,
she sat comfortably
in a chair,
looking at her phone,
enjoying
the sunshine.
Her shoulders
and arms
were tanned
and strong.
“Wow…
she’s amazing.”
“She really is.
I’d love
to be like her.”
For a moment,
I could picture
myself there.
Sitting quietly
under a white umbrella.
Swimming
whenever
I felt like it.
Then
we simply
kept walking.
We even called
to ask about
renting
a tube
and a life jacket.
They said
we could use them
until sunset.
When I hung up,
my daughter smiled.
“Should we
just head home?”
I smiled too.
“I think so.”
It Already Felt Complete
Somehow,
it already felt
complete.
The drive home
was a little busier,
but leaving then
felt exactly right.
“We’ve been walking
in the water
for quite a while.
I’m actually tired,”
my daughter said.
“That’s why
people leave food
on the beach
when they spend
the whole day there.”
When I was a child,
my mother took
my brother
and me
to the seaside
every summer.
My brother
was often sick,
and she hoped
the sunshine
and the sea air
would make him stronger.
We stayed there
for weeks.
Every day,
we simply played
in the ocean.
I can still remember
how happy
that felt.
The Sea Came Home With Me
Back home,
I filled the bathtub
with warm water,
added
a little magnesium
and salt,
and soaked quietly
for a while.
The sea breeze
still felt
like it
was with me.
We had eaten outside,
letting the wind
move through us
all afternoon.
After a warm bath,
I finished
with cool water.
My body
felt ready again
for an ordinary evening.
I don’t know
if I’ll come back
and swim here
someday.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
Either way,
today,
my feet
were enough.
