There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?
But almost is unfulfilling–a rice cake in place of real, salty potato chips.
We live land-locked and so my pining for the beach would remain the impossible dream–though for a few minutes I sincerely contemplated the insanity (excitement?) of planning in impromptu road trip to the nearest beach, four hours away. Staring over the sink at the parched brown grass, I realized immediately the impracticality of such an unplanned venture and went back to washing the dishes. My spirits shriveled a bit, cracking like the ground out under the tree, dry, dusty–thirsty.
The weekend rolled around and a spur of the moment suggestion to take a boat ride turned into a mini-vacation costing significantly less but delivering the relief I hungered for–that for some reason, could only be found on the water. The spray and wind tangling our hair, the sun beating down on our backs–medicine, comfort for the weariness within. The six of us, rocking and swaying on the wakes of the faster boats as the past. We were in no hurry. Time whispered past slowly–that four hours turned out to be a gift for everyone.