Check out That Footwork
Yesterday I was enticed away from tinkering with my syllabus for this semester's class by a friend who invited me to spend the day at Coney Island with her and her eight-year-old daughter. I am not one to say no to a day at the beach, especially on one of the last few days of summer, so I put aside my work, changed into my bathing suit, threw a towel and sunglasses into my beach bag and ran down the stairs to join my friend and her daughter in her car.
It was a beautiful day and it felt bittersweet being there. Partly because Coney Island always has that effect on me, as you all know, and partly just thinking that the summer is over. I had a good summer, with my adventurous vacation in Spain, but it never feels long enough, and I never get to the beach as much as I want to.
Because it was a weekday, there weren't the usual crowds on the beach or on the boardwalk. My friend had promised her daughter she could go on the rides, so we wandered around among the kiddie rides for awhile: giant teacups and miniature horse and carriages and whales that you can sit in. Everything the wrong size, very Alice in Wonderland. My friend went on the Tilt-A-Whirl with her daughter and came off looking and feeling very ill.
So I took over while my friend went in search of a Coke and a spot to rest. I took her daughter--who is a delightful child whom I love--around to some of the other rides, waved at her every time she came around on the mini-rollercoaster or the placidly circling whale. Then we went through the arcades, played a few games, won some stuffed animals. My friend's little girl was having a blast, and I was pretty happy, too, with that late afternoon sun burning down on me, making me feel very calm and slow.
We eventually reunited, had Nathan's hot dogs, French fries, Italian ices, at a little picnic table on the boardwalk. (My friend's daughter remarked, "Why do they call them Italian ices? It's not like there are any other kind of ices.")
We went down to the beach where we had left our stuff a couple of hours before under the care of a kindly woman who agreed to watch our blanket and beachbags. (Or course we had taken money, cameras, expensive sunglasses with us.) The woman, who had been doing some odd sort of seemingly strategic sunbathing standing up (she would turn to face a different direction at exact intervals), was long gone, but our towels and beach reading and snacks were exactly as we left them.
We relaxed then, on the beach, talking desultorily in our chairs while my friend's little girl ran in and out of the water and did what kids do, building things in the sand. The light grew more and more beautiful as the afternoon turned into early evening. Hard to find the right words to describe it. There was just a slight haziness in the air that made the water and the sky above it silvery. I grew mesmerized with a soccer game taking place in and out of the water, three young men and a boy running back and forth after the ball, laughing, jumping, kicking, doing that intricate footwork. And all around them other people are doing their thing, striding up and down the beach, some getting mixed up in the game. There were also people fishing, and some just standing and chatting in the water or on the beach. I am trying at this moment to download a little video of the soccer players that I took with my digital camera, but it doesn't seem to be working, so here, instead, are some stills.
They're almost like a movie, if you look at them in sequence.
It was a beautiful day and it felt bittersweet being there. Partly because Coney Island always has that effect on me, as you all know, and partly just thinking that the summer is over. I had a good summer, with my adventurous vacation in Spain, but it never feels long enough, and I never get to the beach as much as I want to.
Because it was a weekday, there weren't the usual crowds on the beach or on the boardwalk. My friend had promised her daughter she could go on the rides, so we wandered around among the kiddie rides for awhile: giant teacups and miniature horse and carriages and whales that you can sit in. Everything the wrong size, very Alice in Wonderland. My friend went on the Tilt-A-Whirl with her daughter and came off looking and feeling very ill.
So I took over while my friend went in search of a Coke and a spot to rest. I took her daughter--who is a delightful child whom I love--around to some of the other rides, waved at her every time she came around on the mini-rollercoaster or the placidly circling whale. Then we went through the arcades, played a few games, won some stuffed animals. My friend's little girl was having a blast, and I was pretty happy, too, with that late afternoon sun burning down on me, making me feel very calm and slow.
We eventually reunited, had Nathan's hot dogs, French fries, Italian ices, at a little picnic table on the boardwalk. (My friend's daughter remarked, "Why do they call them Italian ices? It's not like there are any other kind of ices.")
We went down to the beach where we had left our stuff a couple of hours before under the care of a kindly woman who agreed to watch our blanket and beachbags. (Or course we had taken money, cameras, expensive sunglasses with us.) The woman, who had been doing some odd sort of seemingly strategic sunbathing standing up (she would turn to face a different direction at exact intervals), was long gone, but our towels and beach reading and snacks were exactly as we left them.
We relaxed then, on the beach, talking desultorily in our chairs while my friend's little girl ran in and out of the water and did what kids do, building things in the sand. The light grew more and more beautiful as the afternoon turned into early evening. Hard to find the right words to describe it. There was just a slight haziness in the air that made the water and the sky above it silvery. I grew mesmerized with a soccer game taking place in and out of the water, three young men and a boy running back and forth after the ball, laughing, jumping, kicking, doing that intricate footwork. And all around them other people are doing their thing, striding up and down the beach, some getting mixed up in the game. There were also people fishing, and some just standing and chatting in the water or on the beach. I am trying at this moment to download a little video of the soccer players that I took with my digital camera, but it doesn't seem to be working, so here, instead, are some stills.
They're almost like a movie, if you look at them in sequence.
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 11:00 PM
5 Comments:
Even more interesting are the changes in light, and sky, with each shot. I see what you mean by the light you couldn't describe, especially in the last one.
Good work.
FA
FA: Thanks, glad you liked them. The light was indeed magical.
lovely description of a lovely afternoon/ evening. Time at the beach is always magical.
I was just wondering if those playing soccer were Brazilian (or maybe Hispanic) -- you don't know that, do you?
Lilian: I think they probably were either Hispanic or Brazilian, more likely Hispanic, given the demographics of the area. I couldn't tell for sure because they were speaking in English, probably for the benefit of the younger kid, who seemed to have English as his first language (the others had a slight accent, he didn't). I didn't get close enough to hear them well, though. I am going to try to e-mail you directly with the little video clip that I couldn't figure out how to post--maybe it will come through via e-mail and then you can hear them speak (as well as crashing of the waves and other beach sounds!).
p.s. to Lilian:
just tried to upload soccer video to an e-mail but it was too big! Oh well... Maybe I'll put it up on Youtube at some point.
Post a Comment
<< Home