On a recent house-hunting trip to Maine, we stayed at a hotel in Kennebunk and had dinner in Ogunquit. Parking the car, I could hear crashing waves and convinced my family to do a small detour on our way to the restaurant. We crossed a small bridge and walked through a parking lot to the beach.
It was incredible.
There were people hanging out, walking up and down the long beach. The kids ran up and down a ramp and out onto the sand. (Seven hours of pent-up ya-yas to get out.) The moon was up over the horizon.
And the best part: beautiful stomach-to-chest-high waves, casually rolling onto the beach. There were only a few people out at the rivermouth. The rest of the beach was just unoccupied peaks. You can’t really tell from this picture, but the conditions were perfect. Waves would crest at a defined and seemingly reliable point, then break both directions with glassy shoulders.