I was at the beach, without Internet for three days. What a delight, a forgotten pleasure, overlooked and tucked aside for the glare of the screen. I had nothing to do except sit on the shore. I had a book, thought up a pretty picture with me leaning against the fallen log, driftwood that was now melded into the beach. But, not today. I marked my page, put away my book, and then just plunked myself on the sand. I listened, made an effort to truly hear what the wind and waves had to say. I gaped as the heavens painted the sky crimson then pink. A group of fishermen were a few feet away, idly sitting on the same shore, watching the same Sundance, or me, I do not know. I examined shells stranded on the beach, wondering when was the last time they were shifted or turned out. I picked out one, carried the shell to another spot of sand. And maybe the shell lingers on that spot for another 50 years, long after I have moved on. I took a dip, smacked the salt on my lips and floated on my back. I remembered how the ocean felt like. This was the closest feeling I could have to being weightless, to defying gravity and the world’s weight bearing me down. Suspended in water. Flying again. But this time, the sky was below, and the water and sand at my back. Everything upside-down. Suspend reality while being truly there. Linger in a spot, with nothing to do but be with yourself. Life happening as you see it. It was a delight, a forgotten pleasure I have recently overlooked and tucked aside for the glare of the screen.