White Horse Beach

January 8, 2008
By Kerri Tekut, Milford, MA

In my opinion, the most relaxing and visually beautiful place to spend any waking moment is White Horse Beach in Plymouth, Massachusetts. There’s nothing but the sun, the sand, and a drink in my hand. Nothing beats baking in the sun with the crash of waves echoing in my ears. What you see is what you get here; waves hugging the shore line as they crash, white, blanket soft sand and that bright, burning fireball in the sky that somehow takes my mind to a place higher than the clouds can go. The ocean calls my name, the waves ready to engulf me and take me for a ride.

As the sun beats on my body, my tan lines are turning even more white, I know its time to take a dip into that refreshing, exhilarating Atlantic Ocean. My older sister Mandy, my ten-year-old cousin Jake, and my “brother” Brandon casually walk to the shore feeling that salty sea breeze we crave in the winter. It’s only a matter of time before Jake is the first one in the water. Mandy, Brandon and I are knee deep, but get bombarded by the most monstrous waves we’ve seen in years. I’ve been coming to this beach before I was even born, I was inside my Mom’s stomach and not even aware that one day this place would be my haven, my escape from reality. For many summers my family and I would stay at our family friend Dick’s cottage smack dab on White Horse Beach. From the porch I’d admire the most gorgeous view of that ocean which did, and still to this day, captivates me and takes all my cares away. In the ocean, past the rolling waves, and out farther than my eyes can see is where my troubles go when I spend time here. I’d never look forward to anything more than spending time on this beach with the people I cared for most, and still here I am today. When Jake yells “These waves are huge!” we all knew he was right as Mandy takes a plunge and goes under. Brandon’s next, and after watching all of them kick around, I know it’s my turn to dunk under. Up I come from the salty, crisp and refreshing water. Before I can gasp for breath, I hear Mandy exclaim “Look at that, we’re gunna be tossed!” Sure enough she is right, and the taste of swallowed salt water lingers in my mouth. After swimming in the ocean for a good hour, my heart beats out of my chest. Adrenaline pumps through my veins from being tossed around time after time in waves as if I was just in a washing machine. We pant for air, all of us except for Jake; he’s like a fish, never gets tired of swimming. Finally, I am just ready to throw myself on that sand and absorb all of the suns’ rays that are giving me this great tan.

Up to our towels we go, all of us are wiped out expect Jake, of course. I look out into the ocean and see him kicking around as usual. I sprawl out on my towel, spray on tanning oil and rest easy while the sun warms my body back up. It’s perfect beach days like this that I live for. Brandon’s pestering Mandy by spraying tanning oil in her hair, and she rips it out of his hands and takes off to the ocean with Jake. Finally, I am left to relax and enjoy all the sun I’ve been soaking in, so I shut my eyes and listen to the motion of the ocean. Laying here thinking, my memories dragged back to old times when I used to build sandcastles with my sisters on the sand bar. Just sitting on the beach all day building away was my favorite thing to do, now I’m still here, instead working on my tan. Fading away, totally relaxed I start to boil up again and realize I need to get myself back in the water. Likewise, I motion towards the freshwater river to Mandy and Jake and I can tell they both agree.

Our walk to the river, about a quarter of a mile down the beach, is brutally hot and my feet feel as if I am stepping on hot coals. Mandy, Jake and I look back to see Brandon passed out; face down on his towel and we all just look at each other and laugh. While we’re walking, people renting out the cottages are grilling up food which smells so good. We all just look at each other and understand that we’re hungry. People on their porches motion to us, and keep waving in our direction but we keep on walking as our feet still continue to be singed from the steamy sand. We approach the huge rocks, and I know that I’ll soon be out of my misery; the water is just right down below them. Jake’s the first one in, and the current drags him out right into the ocean. The river’s a freshwater one with a strong current that will pull at you downstream until you’re being smothered by the shocking, freezing cold waves that bite at your legs. Jake gets eaten by these waves, Mandy and I know it’s our turn to do the same. I let go of the rock and down the river I go, hitting little kids with life vests on while the rocks scrape up against my legs as I approach him and the huge ocean waves. Mandy grabs onto my back, and as soon as she does we’re being dragged out further into the shore. This reminded me of when I was a little girl, and as frightening as the waves seem now, they were ten times larger and stronger, always sucking me in as I’d try so hard to get back on my feet. My dad used to have to carry me, fearing that I’d be nearly eaten alive and dragged out to sea. Lying in the river is so relaxing and a more suitable temperature than the ocean. It’s just as tiring trying to fight the river current than it is being imprisoned by gigantic, chilly waves. Next, we all climb up the rocks and back onto the sand ready to take the pleasure in of the warm sun and our dry towels.

We are trudging back to rest on our towels, I look up at the sky and understand why I’m shivering. The temperature has clearly dropped, and the sun is on its way to set in the sky. Because time isn’t even an object down here, all I have to do is look up in the sky and guesstimate, by the position of the sun, what time it is. Brandon wakes up, his back tomato red from his nap and I know he’s going to be in agonizing pain tomorrow. Taking advantage of his burnt back, Jake takes his wet towel and whips Brandon in the back; “WHAT THE HELL JAKE?!” Brandon yells. However, everybody is laughing except him, so he just lays his head back down on the towel. I’m exhausted, so I lay down on the sand hoping to regain some of that frantic energy I had earlier. I take my iPod speakers and put them in my ears and slowly, but surely, my eye lids start to droop. I drift away as the wind gently blows by and helps me relax. The smell of the sea air is soothing to my soul; it’s what I miss more than anything in those dreary, dreadful winter months. Mandy taps my shoulder; I open my eyes and see everyone packing up all of our belongings. Knowing my little piece of heaven will soon be out of my vision does not make me pack any quicker, that’s for sure. My towels all rolled up and we’re ready to go back to Hopkinton. Lastly, before leaving, I look out to the ocean, around the shoreline, and take in all White Horse Beach’s beauty for what it’s worth.

The most special memories I’ve ever created were at White Horse Beach. Spending time there makes me so content and carefree, I cherish every breathing minute I lay on the beach or get bombarded by the frosty waves. Being here is special to me because I can only visit here in the summertime. I really hope to be going here until the day I die. There’s never a dull moment or a memory I’ll forget. The most important thing is I get to enjoy my favorite place on earth with my favorite people on earth, not to mention it’s their favorite place as well. Cape Cod will soon be washed away, as well as White Horse Beach, knowing that it makes me appreciate the beauty and every inch of my favorite beach.

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