Shelter From The Storm

Saturday was a very fun day. One of Hunter's projects took us down to Zuma beach in Malibu again, so we decided to make another family excursion out of it. It was supposed to be a cooler day, so we didn't bother bringing bathing suits and instead just brought toys to play with on the beach. When we arrived, hardly anyone was there. This is usually a very busy part of the beach swarming with surfers and families and people playing sand volleyball. Well, there was a reason why it was so empty. The wind was quite strong. I thought, well, that's okay, we can have fun making a little fort that will block us from the wind. But no matter how many different ways I tried to seal off our fort, the sand kept coming in through the smallest holes and just swarming all over. Andre was soon covered. Paulo, who had the best seat in the house, got sand in his eyes a few times (if you can imagine with eyelashes like that). And I was getting the worst of it. Soon the wind started to get stronger...and stronger...and stronger. It began to get quite ridiculous. I had Andre completely under my shirt and somehow he was still eating sand. Just when our fun on the beach finally crossed the line and became not-so-fun, Hunter appeared and said "Come on, we're getting out of here." Unfortunately, the pictures do no justice to the situation we were in, but as Hunter put it, the wind was so strong that the sand hitting his legs actually stung his skin, and as he approached my little make-shift shelter from a distance, he said it looked like a brown sand-storm cloud was hovering around us (think Lawrence of Arabia). He thought, "Look at my poor wife--we're out of here." So we disassembled the "tent" and made a mad dash through the sand to the car about 200 yards away. Paulo was afraid by the strength of the wind and needed to be carried, so Hunter hoisted him up on his shoulder (like a soldier does to his wounded comrade in combat) with all our beach equipment in the other hand and kept running. Meanwhile I had Andre under a blanket and was running, too. When we finally reached the safety of the car, I looked back at Paulo and with eyebrows raised and a huge silly smile on his face, he said "It's fun, the beach?" He is so cute. If anyone is an example of having "joy in the journey," as mentioned in President Monson's talk, it's Paulo, or all children, for that matter. What an adventure!