Our little beach outside our door was very quiet until after lunch.  Once the french had full belly's, they hit the beach. 

I thought it was interesting how the French do not eat or drink on the beach.  They grab a towel and their suntan oil and bake in the sun.  They haven't gotten the memo about skin cancer (or lung cancer for that matter).  Most are an orangy red color and glisten from oil. 

There were no large red coleman coolers, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with their sandy crunch, or chips and soda.  I did not hear any music from radio's (I guess I am dating myself........remember boom boxes at the beach people?).   Everyone was so friendly and happy.  We saw the same people day after day.  

The kids learned how to capture jelly fish (yikes), they were a purple color and quite pretty.  They found crabs and played in the sand for hours.  Sophie loved getting wet and then becoming a "sugared donut" by rolling in the sand. 

"When are you getting off that boogie board?"

I will tuck all the sweet memories in my heart from our days spent on the beach.  Whether we were hunting for seashells, eating ice cream on the beach, riding on the red boat (the kids got to go for a couple rides), watching sailboat lessons in front of us, talking with Bernadette (a retired teacher who calls Kerfany her home), watching the french interact with one another, admiring the body confidence that the french seem to have (there were many shapes and sizes and no one seemed to care, they were just doing what they should be doing.....enjoying themselves).  

There was a beautiful sense of calm and freedom on this stretch of sand.