Summer is over, my daughter is back in school. And although I am glad to get back to a routine and overjoyed to get my writing time back, I found myself thinking about what summer means to me. While images of ice cream, heat waves, and the pool popped into my head, the brightest image by far was that of the beach.

Having said that, I will say that I am not an all-day-every-day beach person. If I get to the beach a few times a summer, I am happy. I dislike the heat and the sunscreen and those nasty greenhead flies. But I do find something soothing in the sun on the water, the warm breeze, and the roar of the surf. Water has always been a soother of my soul.

This year, my daughter got to the beach more than I did. She went with Daddy while at the Gans Family Reunion, and while I was at the Ocean City Authors Showcase. She described the waves the day of the Showcase as “fierce.” But she had a good time.

I went with her (and my mother) to the Long Island Sound during our last week of summer. We spent a day on the beach, building sandcastles…

Catching fish in a bucket (released back into the water)…

And swimming in the calm water.

As the tide went out, sand bars appeared and we were able to walk to “islands” far out in the water. Daughter named one of them Mossy Rock Island because of the algae-covered rocks all around the sand bar.

It was a relaxing day (aside from the bees attacking my daughter), and we all enjoyed whiling away the time. The water chilled at first touch, but then became pleasant—especially as the tide went out, creating warm shallow pools between the beach and sand bars.

We finished off our vacation at the playground near the harbor, where hundreds of boats bobbed peacefully in the sunset.

A wonderful way to end the summer.

Summer means beach to me because I lived my whole life close to the beach. Other people don’t live near the water. What does summer mean to you? What memories of summers past do you cherish most?

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