Seaside
Johnny Jones, 31 July 2003
Florida's Seagrove Beach - ahhhhhhhhhh.
Why does just the mention of the beach bring me peace? If I tell you, will you keep it quiet? Part of the fun is the fact Seagrove is quiet.
Not quiet from the stillness of the waves - they speak and tumble and roll like classical music playing behind you.
Not quiet from the creatures. The sand crabs and sand fleas burrow and skitter, sideways and down. The blue crabs hover like shadows at night, waiting for our flashlights and nets. The pelicans fly low and close over the water, rising with the waves. The gulls wait to be shooed away, like the chickens on a front porch.
And certainly not quiet at night, when my family gathers and we take over the game room or gather in my sister's condo. Not quiet at all then, when the cousins demand another round of Mafia, or a trio consisting of sister and nieces sings "Earl Has to Die," complete with motions, or one of my nephews shouts so Daddy can hear him, or there's another game of Mexican Train.
What I mean by "quiet" is that it's between Panama City and Destin, and nothing like either one of them. If you want water parks or mini-golf or to rent a boat for deep sea fishing, Seagrove Beach is the wrong place.
But if you want family time, and a bicycle trail, and a quiet State Park within walking distance, you're set.
We stay in Seagrove because it's close to Seaside, which was the "perfect" town featured in The Truman Show. We get huge, freshly made cinnamon rolls at Modica's Market, a New York class deli and bakery where we girls went for breakfast one morning. But by staying in Seagrove we don't have to pay Seaside lodging prices, which are out of our league. New York is not just about the deli, but the place of residence of the owners of many of the large, colorful homes.
But even with the East Coast influence, Seaside is very Florida - you've never seen so many bare feet, or so many kinds of sandals. People eat, shop, and play in their swim suits or shorts.
In addition to the deli and restaurants and a few other businesses, there is shopping on the beach - a small bazaar where merchants set up tents selling sunglasses or skirts or hats -- all for prices none of us could afford, except for the handmade soaps and some postcards. Still, it's fun to poke around.
And we could wander out of the shops down to the beach, with the sugar white sand and sandals parked at the end of the boardwalk. If we walked the other way out of our condo, away from Seaside, we quickly got to an unspoiled State Park, Deer Lake. The gulls were brave there, since there were few people on the beach, so it was my duty to run towards a convocation and scare them to a few cries and maybe seven feet closer to the channel that ran from the lake.
My sisters said there were alligators in the lakes, and I believed them! They warned everyone not to swim in the early morning or late afternoon. One evening together we heard about personal encounters with sharks.
There were other stories, too, told by and about family, and even though we couldn't rent the bikes for the mass ride we had in mind (we would have needed 13 cycles!), there was enough to do at the beach. There were early morning and sunset beach walks, and after dark, the hunting for crabs. There was jumping and swimming in the waves, and sitting under the tent talking with whoever was there. The familiar was fun, and itâs nice to be so popular ö to have more people who want to do things with you than time to do it.
Maybe that's why I love Seagrove Beach. Besides its beauty, it's place we're together. Fran took her week's vacation for the year, and Mike and his girlfriend flew in from Las Vegas. We all value time together.
And thatâs what we get Seagrove Beach. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh.
