By Wayne Hinshaw
For the Salisbury Post

“Some beach, somewhere, there’s a big umbrella casting shade over an empty chair. Palm trees are growing, warm breezes blowing. I picture myself right there, or some beach, somewhere.”
    — From Blake Shelton’s ‘Some Beach’

In all of our minds, Labor Day marks the end of summer, end of vacations, end of the care-free, lazy, hot days even if the calendar says summer doesn’t end until Sept. 21.
Summer’s events begin to fade just like our suntans. We are left with memories that will last forever. We’ll remember the hot ocean breezes full of the smell of salt water … remember the beautiful white, then yellow, fluffy clouds floating in front of the royal blue sky background suddenly turning to angry black clouds as a storm moved in from the Atlantic, cooling the evening.
The sea oats, having no worries or concerns, sway rhythmically on the sand dunes beneath the palmetto trees of North Myrtle Beach. The seagulls sound their shrill cries as they dive through the air. We’ll remember the hundreds of colorful beach tents and umbrellas lining the white sand … washing the sand from between our toes in our flip-flops … feeling the stinging pain of “much too red” shoulders from too much exposure to the sun.
There are memories of gathering sea shells from the surf and building the sand castle of your dreams. The high tide always wipes away your sand castle in the darkness of the night. Crabbing with your net in the marshy sound during low tide takes a skill that you just don’t have.
All the memories of the summer beach vacation are stored in your mind until next summer.

“So here’s to all the summer nights when my feet hit the sand and the waves break my fall and my friends around me outnumber the stars.”
Author unknown