Beach Bag, check. Towel, check. Drink in my hand, check.

Recently at the beach myself, I stepped off the boardwalk into the warm sugary white sand and took in a deep breath as the breeze blew my hair out of my face. 

I walked closer to the water's edge to find the perfect spot for the afternoon. 

Turning slightly to where the breeze would help me lay my towel on the sand, I brushed the corners down and took my seat. After applying sunscreen (it's not always fun, but hey, I don't want skin cancer...) I took another deep breath and laid my head down. 

Oh, the waves were gently meeting the shore, with just enough force to create the sound that puts you at ease. I can attest to the water's hypnotic-like properties.

The sun was shining, giving the perfect amount of warmth to my skin as my body soaked in the rays. As I lay there, I could feel my body relax.

My mind was in that place, that "happy place" that people talk about, where you imagine you're at the beach, carefree, and with zero stress. But the fun part was that I wasn't imagining it. I've lived in Panama City Beach for almost 22 years and every time, I have to remind myself that I'm not imagining this happy place, this pure beach bliss, this incredible view or this magnificent creation.

Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, a couple of ladies were excitedly making their way down to the water. The words that came out of their mouth stuck me "Have we died and gone to heaven? Would you just look at this?!"

It's true, this view is amazing, and will often leave me awestruck. I sometimes take for granted the beach's beauty and the excitement of it. However, I  can say that after each trip, I feel renewed. 

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