The wind has been battering the coast for days now.
Brutal windchills have made the seasonal sunshine seem ironic, but today it warmed a couple degrees, the wind dropped a little, and presto, it was livable outside.
A kid had shorts on. Shorts! With his mother’s permission, even.
Folks were laughing. Dogs were jumping as waves crashed ashore. Lowkey happy folk were just chilling with their favourite bottles of local 650ml craft beer.
If Norman Rockwell was Canadian and liked beaches, he’d have painted it.
When I left the waterfront to return home for yet more work, I noticed these four bottles left by the trash.
I thought: How representative of Victoria.
As much as the restaurant scene is great, the art scene thrives, and life is as full here as you want to make it, there’s always an appeal to just stripping all that shit away, wandering to the beach with a beer and a buddy, and chatting sans the bullshit distraction of Life As We Know It.
I wouldn’t go so far as to pronounce sipping a 650ml craft beer at the beach as being “primal” but as surely as taverns have existed throughout the ages, so has taking a flask to the countryside and drinking with a friend in a field.
It may be illegal in our silly “modern” mores, but it’s as old as we are, and it’s something to celebrate. Sorry, officer.
In a city with more beachy coastline than most, while being the microbrew capital of the country, there seems no fitter compliment to either brewers or the beaches that such hoppy handiwork should be enjoyed as waves thunder in under a roaring wind and a brilliant blue sky.
Sure, you could ask for more in life, but why would you need to?
A great beach, time to sit and enjoy a beer, and the smarts to know that’s enough. For this moment in time, that’s enough.
I think the blessing of going through adversity in life is, when it gets good & you can just be in a moment, you realize how satisfying that is.
So, afternoon beach beers on the first warmish-but-windy springy-sunny day of the year: Good enough indeed.