Yesterday, I turned thirty-four. And it was a Saturday. The convergence of the two led to feelings of a planned gathering.
So I planned, and they gathered… at Ocean Beach for a beach bonfire birthday. It was gloomy and it was blowy. It was misting and sand was swirling. But there was fire and everyone was appropriately bundled and despite being damp and very dirty, it was grand.
Some people left early and some people showed up quite late, so there was a nicely rotating mix of folk. There were hot dogs and s’mores and carafes of spiced wine.
And at the end, after all of our wood was burned away and I was hemming and hawing as to whether we should go get more or just be done with, a guy showed up with a tree’s worth of more wood and asked if we were about to done with our pit. He was on his own, just wanting to build a fire, so he joined our group and created a monstrous blaze which was really almost magical in the dark.
If I hadn’t managed to turn the tide from pleasantly tipsy to distressingly, spinningly drunk right there at the very end, it actually would have been just about perfect. So I kind of ruined my Sunday a little bit, but the birthday itself was just really nice.