We started a new Block Island tradition last year: the beach picnic. Our house is on the south side of the island and the nearby beach is one we hadn't really explored before. When we visited the beach in the months before summer, it seemed quiet and sleepy and uninhabited. But when we arrived at the end of July for our vacation, we found that the beach is quite popular and filled with people at all hours of the day/night.
Our beach picnic this year was not as peaceful and solitary as last years' but it was still fun.
We made pasta, green and fruit salads and carried everything down to the beach in a tote bag.
The tide was coming in and the exposed beach was rather slanted, so we used some driftwood as a bench.
We ignored the enormous party a few hundred yards to our left and concentrated on the gorgeous water and the setting sun.
And then the party began to pack up and noisily pass us by so they could leave the beach by the steps that we (very inconviently) sat next to. The man in the photo behind us made more than a few trips up and down the stairs, removing large quantities of wine bottles and garbage and swearing loudly every few steps about the hassle of it all.
Don't mind the kids, sir!
I was hopeful that we might be able to take a Christmas-Card-worthy photo of the kids during our picnic. The lighting was perfect and the scenary lovely, but the approaching high tide was making them nervous. No one wanted to get hit by a wave.
After I repeatedly assured them that no wave was going to crash into their backs, my children agreed to sit on a rock, close to the water and I got the following shot.....
Just seconds before that wave behind them, roared into their backs, soaking Henry and Georgia in the process. Whoops.
And that was the end of the photo call.
And the picnic.