Imagine Living Here

“Imagine living here?”

My dad would often say this to me while chilling on a floatie in the pristine Gulf of Mexico waters or digging our toes in the sand as we munched on our favorite beach snacks — Corn Nuts and Fritos. I lived out of state for some years, and he always missed me being here. It was his little infomercial way of hinting at me coming home.

“For the low, low price of ‘moving home,’ this could be yours, too!”

He’s always loved a good infomercial.

Eventually, I did come home. Now, it’s our running joke.

We say it on Saturdays when we hit the beach with our small group, setting up in our little plot of sand, enjoying that nearly perfect yellow-flagged water, the kind that you know should’ve been labeled green. We say it after a long day of work when we set out to Okaloosa Island, just us two, for an after-work swim. We say it when we cruise over the Cinco Bayou Bridge to pop into AJ’s for some good oysters and sunsets over the bay. We say it in the winter when we go for beach walks to get a little sun, just to remind us that summer is never too far away in sunny Florida.

But I’ve begun to think about it more philosophically. “Imagine living here?” I do live here — this is my home. I was born and raised here. And while living away, this was always my safe haven. I latched onto that feeling, knowing I could come back, knowing my dad would always catch me if I fell, knowing the beach would help nurse me back to health. For me, the beach will always be home.

I know some locals have lost that appreciation. I can’t blame them; no hometown is perfect. But I think many fail to recognize what we have here — what thousands of tourists each year pay to experience. And I sometimes forget what lies beyond the beach. What else is there to explore at home?

I want to know my city and home for more than just the beach. I’ve taken to stepping out of that safe-haven comfort zone. Not by much, but enough.

In Fort Walton Beach, Maas Coffee Roasters offers cozy outdoor seating. Photo by Paige Aigret

I sacrifice a beloved Saturday beach day for the occasional park outing, laying lazily with my love on the grass at our favorite spot in downtown Fort Walton Beach. We’ll stop at our respective coffee shops for a treat — Maas for him and Enlightened for me. We’ll read quietly, peeking from behind the pages to watch the Santa Rosa Sound waters beyond the grass and pausing to blow dandelions into the wind.

I’m taking day trips with friends to explore nearby springs. We order Pub Subs and load the car with floats and a cooler full of drinks. We shiver at the ice-cold water, a stark contrast to the warm Gulf. But the summer is scorching, and the water is a relief after your body adjusts. I don my goggles and dive down below the surface to explore, swapping seashell finds on the beach for spring rocks or simply wondering at the water bubbling up from beneath.

I got a library card, valid at all Okaloosa County Public Libraries, and intend to visit each location. I’ve swapped the occasional night at a bar for outings to my local barcade, Rad Bar, for $10 all-you-can-play games. I attend poetry nights at that downtown coffee shop I love, immersing myself in an unexpected and welcoming group of varying ages and walks of life as each gets up to do the one thing we all tend to fear most — publicly express our emotions.

Rad Bar hosts tournaments for popular cabinet games like Killer Queen. Photo courtesy of Rad bar

These small acts hardly count as “explorations,” but they show me that home is more than the beach. And while those emerald green waters are our selling point, our small hometowns along the Gulf Coast have even more to offer. These things are home, too.

Another thing my dad always says is, “Keep your circle tight.” He means that both in relationships and locale. He keeps his inner circle of people close, holds them tight and scarcely lets others in. He travels almost exclusively within his small “circle of convenience” consisting of the beach, his preferred Publix, Walgreens and other necessities.

While I’m proud to say that I’ve become much like my father, in contrast, I’m challenging myself to expand my circle in some small ways — to reimagine living here. I challenge you to do the same.