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Summer, Sand, Castle
Reflections on my childhood summers at Huntington Beach, SC
When I was a boy, I was a beach bum. At least, for about a month every summer I was. From the time I was two until animosity severed my relationship with my parents at sixteen or so, I accompanied them on a month-long RV trip to Huntington Beach State Park in South Carolina. Many of my happiest childhood memories come from that place. I didn’t realize then how much I should have cherished that easy time. Now, at 30, with a family of my own and a “real” job, a month at the beach seems like an impossible dream.
My dad is a farmer. Same as his dad was, and his dad back six or seven generations. The family farm is in southwestern Ohio. It consists of a lot of high-quality soil, deep black and sprawling flat to the horizon, spotted with a few clusters of trees here and there. And not much else. In this soil, my family grows corn and soybeans. That means they have a lot of free time. See, when you’re a farmer on your own land and all you do is grow cash crops, you don’t really have much busy time. Planting and harvest season is about it. There’s chemical application, but that can easily be delegated to a farmhand and doesn’t require much supervision. Same with hauling grain leftover from last year’s harvest to the market. In other words, my summer breaks from school aligned with my…
