This weekend I engaged in a variety of activities ranging from sailing to painting. On the whole it was an enjoyable weekend of exercise. However sometimes it’s not the exciting activities that gauge my interest, sometimes it’s the little things that make moments memorable. This weekend, that happened to be playing Frisbee with my father at the beach near my house. It was approximately five in the evening and I was stuck with nothing to do. My father then asked if I would like to go down to the beach to play Frisbee. At first I declined the offer, for I was far to busy staring into the pantry looking for something to eat but then realizing that I wasn’t hungry. I would then walk around the house looking for something to do, but not liking whatever little game I discovered. I would then return to the pantry and repeat the process again
After about a half hour of this, I realized that I was getting nowhere. I decided that the best thing I could do to deal with my boredom was to go to the beach with my father and toss around the frisbee for a while. I grabbed an old white frisbee from behind a plastic laundry basket on a shelf and we walked out the front door.
It was a lovely evening, the orange and pink clouds were slowly moving out over the ocean as the sun grew closer to the horizon. When I stepped out the door, the temperature must have increased by three or four degrees. In any event, the air was warmer outside than it had been inside. We walked out the dark purple gate under the arch covered in potato vine with white flowers spotted every so often through the groupings of small green leaves. Then made our way over the railroad tracks, through the rusty chain linked gate, down the black asphalt path with the wooden log fence off to the left and a tall bush on the right, and finally made it on to the beach.
The tide was low and there was plenty of sand making the beach very wide, there was no wind, but still plenty of light left. This of course was a perfect day for frisbee since there was no wind to effect throughs, and a large space so if a toss doesn’t go where it was supposed to, it won’t end up in the water.
We played for just around twenty minutes and then got a call from mom that dinner was ready, so we did a final few throws, dusted off the frisbee, and headed back home just as the sun began to touch the horizon. This experience was by no means extraordinary, or off the beaten trail, but it was special and it had meaning to me. I encourage everyone to switch up their routine every once in a while and try something that you may not do on a day to day basis. If I didn’t play frisbee with my dad, I would have missed out on something really special. So get out there and do something meaningful with the special people in your life.