The end of Summer

Well, the summer of that year was coming to an end, and I was looking forward to returning to highschool. I was going to be in the 9th grade, and was excited about returning to my friends in Hapeville. I was not as heavy as I was when I went into the home, and with all the experiences and things that had shaped me over that last year, I was more confident. One thing was to happen though, that brought a wonderful end to the summer.
Just about half way through August, the matron called me in and told me that a family wanted to take me on vacation with them. They were going to Florida for a week and wanted one of the kids from the home to go along with their family. I was going to get to spend a whole week at the beach! I had never been to the beach before, and I was so excited. Before I knew it, the weekend had come and I was on my way with a sweet family that had two teenagers, a boy and a girl. The girl was my age, and she was very nice. We drove the long trip to Florida on a hot Saturday morning, traveling south through Georgia, along a country highway. Each side of the highway was dotted with farms, with grass growing verdant and green. Some of that intense green was due to sweet potato plants that covered miles of farmland. Elsewhere fat cattle roamed slowly looking for shade, and long rows of plowed earth erupted with cotton plants. It looked like it had snowed. Fat cotton bolls fluffed out and reached for the sun in a never ending landscape that held the history of Georgia agriculture. You could almost see black slaves bending over long, heavy sacks, hand picking the cotton and filling the bags. But, that cotton was destined to be harvested by modern machinery, and hand picked cotton was thankfully relegated to the imagination. There were huge peanut fields too, with large green leaves blocking out the earth, and chubby peanuts growing underground. The father of the family pulled over to the side of the road by a peanut farm, and pulled up a peanut plant. The peanuts were growing on the roots, and that plant had about ten large peanut pods connected to it. He asked me if I had ever tasted a fresh peanut, and I said no. He pulled the shell from a peanut, and the nuts buried inside fell into his hand. There was about six nuts to each pod, and they were pink and moist, and nothing like I had ever seen. I had only had roasted peanuts, and was pleasantly surprised when I bit down into a fresh peanut. It was slightly sweet and not crunchy at all, but soft and rubbery. I really liked the taste, and asked for some more, but the father told me that if you are not used to fresh peanuts, you could get tummy trouble if you ate too many. Soon after we stopped at the peanut farm, we had a picnic for lunch and went on our way. We finally crossed the Florida state border, and there was a large cement marker welcoming everyone to Florida. The son in the family took an opportunity to play a prank on me. He told me that Florida was full of alligators and he had seen a dead alligator along the side of the road. He said there were so many alligators, and that cars and trucks ran over them all the time. I was looking from side to side, and front and back trying to find an alligator, when he poked me and told me to look. He pointed out what I was sure was a huge dead alligator, and I squealed with delight to see my first wild alligator, never mind that it was road kill. I scrambled for my camera to get a photo souvenier, and realized that everyone was chuckling. With suspicion, I asked what was so funny! The mother of the family kindly told me that there was no dead alligator on the side of the road, but only a tire tread that had come off a semi-truck. Sure enough, that is exactly what it was! We all had a good laugh, and the father assured me that if I watched out carefully, I could very well see a live alligator. The day wore on as we traveled to our destination. It was Panama City Florida. It was getting dark as we arrived, but since the hotel was right on the beach, I begged for a moment to run to the water. I had never seen the ocean before, and the mother told her children and me to go ahead and see the beach. With gratitude, I sprang from the car and ran across the sand, the water's edge being my destination. Several things will forever be in my mind about that moment in my life. First,the scent of the ocean surrounded me. It was fresh and fishy at the same time. The waves made slight roaring sounds and the creamy swells climbed over and over onto the beach. The breeze was warm and ruffled my hair. I wanted to get my feet into that water and then I realized how hard it is to run in sand. That was a surprise. The soft grains worked against my feet and made it difficult to get good traction. The more I tried to run, the more sand got in my shoes. Finally, I just took my shoes and socks off and carried them. Now, I felt the heat from the day in the sand. How warm the sand was, and how it molded to my feet. Soon, I had reached the edge of the water. It was a magic moment as the first waves gently lapped over my feet and receeded. It seemed that the water was a living thing. In spite of the heat of the evening, the water was cool and soothing. I thought how nice it would be just to sit right down and let the water flow over my whole body. I couldn't have done that because I still had my clothes on and didn't want to get them wet. While experiencing my first moment at the beach, I realized that many people were swimming even though it was getting dark. Looking around, I saw that there were no little children, but lots of teenagers and young adults. Everywhere couples were paired together, holding hands, walking along the waves or romancing on beach blankets. Squeals and laughter came from those who were splashing in the deeper water, and there were even a few campfires. Oh, I could imagine myself as one of those who were having so much fun! I could not have known the wonderful week that awaited me. I have much to tell you.