I grew up in a little beach town in West Michigan. As a kid, I completely took for granted the unbelievable beauty and serenity of the place I lived. I dreamed of something greater. Bigger. A place full of adventure. And the town I called home rarely offered anything new. But once I had a child of my own, my hometown became something different to me. It became a place where my own experiences and memories mattered so much less than the ones I created for my son. I stopped seeing the flaws of small town living and began to see beauty in the simplicity. This beach town is now my boy’s greatest place of happiness. He hikes, swims, golfs, and enjoys every minute he gets to spend there. We travel most places on our bikes, and trips to get ice cream are nightly adventures for us. In so many ways, it’s the time we spend together in this sleepy, quiet little town that connect us deeper than any other time of year.
So every summer, we flee the stifling heat of Arkansas, and spend a few of the most wonderful weeks lounging on the beach. And I finally know now how lucky I am to have this little beach town.
I met up with Kacey and Dave one perfect evening on the beach, with their son Walter. We laughed, played, splashed in the water, and made some really sweet photographs together.