The beach house

A white and pink-striped wall that seems to come out from a 50s fairy tale book. A balcony facing the ocean. You can see a very small dock from afar where a group of fishermen fumble about with boats and fishnets. White, perfectly square-shaped, tables covered with linen tablecloths, ceramic plates and wine glasses that have not been filled in yet. There is also a centrepiece made of green leaves and fresh fruits, picked from the orchards nearby. All around, you can hear the sound of the waves and feel the wind that blows through the rose-bay branches, the seagulls, the buzz of a cheerful bee.

It’s the beach house. It feels good, fresh, clean. It feels like a well-deserved holiday that has finally come. It’s been closed for a while, but the windows are now wide open and the August sunlight shines through. We can enjoy it only for a few weeks a year, but that does not mean it can’t feel like Home.

8.00 am

The alarm rings later at the beach house. We wake up with light heart and the head feels like a feather. It flies to the kitchen and we prepare a healthy breakfast that we can eat outside, under the bloomed rose-bay’s shadow. The chairs at the beach house seem more comfortable than the ones used in everyday life. Maybe because of the fresh air of the sea? The chairs are white, transparent or light-coloured. There is also a pouf, stuffed with a soft pillow, and a few small bookcases – to place all the books that we can finally read now.