There are few things in life that satisfy my thirst for relaxation like a day at the beach. This is probably no surprise. Who doesn’t enjoy a few hours in the sun with freshly soaked sand beneath their feet? My tastes have changed over the years of course. No longer do I crave an overcrowded shoreline crawling with underage drinkers on a Spring Break bender. No I prefer the calm of a secluded cove or scarcely visited coast, armed with only a cold brew in my hand and Bob Marley in my ear; hidden from the rigors of a regimented society.Though the seductive breeze of a summer afternoon at high tide never fails to woo me, it is the blissful experience of self-organization that wins me over. As I walked down Kiawah Island Beach this weekend, (a short drive from Charleston, SC) I took in the seemingly chaotic nature of the scene. There was no central planning. Hundreds of strangers sorted their way along the water’s edge, until finding the perfect spot to settle in. Parents marched along carrying bags, coolers and chairs, with their kids in tow, as young couples strolled among them, holding hands. All colors, creeds and socio-economic backgrounds were co-existing peacefully; each seeking their own self-interest and yet building upon each other. New friendships were made as neighboring children began to build sandcastles together. Was I witnessing the beginnings of a future architect? Who knows? An elderly couple enjoying retirement gazes as young teens prance by, enthralled with youthful love and excitement; no doubt reflecting on their early years. And yet no one was directing any of this.
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The Recovering Statist