With the loud wind in my ears and the constant sound of the tube bouncing off the water, it was nearly impossible to transcribe what my mom was shouting at me. “Look to your right,” she hollered. Bearing the pain of the saltwater splashing into my eyes, I glanced over. I saw a fin. Instinctively, I thought it was a shark and instantly felt the panic flood my thoughts. For all the years I’ve been tubing in Tybee Island, Georgia, I had never seen that before. Moments following, I saw another fin, followed by another. That’s when I realized they were not sharks, but rather dolphins. I had never seen a dolphin, let alone, three within thirty feet of me. Each year, Tybee Island has new events in store for me; some positive and some negative. Although I have created many positive memories at Tybee Island, I have learned that one negative experience cannot negate experiencing the outdoors that I love most.

It was August, the summer before I started eighth grade. In the past summer at Tybee Island, I had seen dolphins whilst tubing, so of course I was ecstatic to return for that summer. After arriving at the beach house, we rented every year, I felt as if nothing had changed. The same coastal decorations filled the house and had still not been replaced after the many years we had stayed there. Eager to go to the beach, which was about a minute walk from where we were staying, I rushed to unpack my bag. I threw on a swimsuit and begged my dad to come to the beach with me. I had changed so fast that I did not even put on shoes. As I walked closer to the shore, I felt the hot pavement against my bare feet, which only made me more ready to jump in the water. As we approached the beach, I couldn’t help but acknowledge the fun, buzzing atmosphere. People were everywhere, kids were laughing, music was playing, people were eating ice cream, and competing in sand volleyball. It felt like summer. My dad was setting up our spot; placing down chairs and umbrellas when, instead of helping, I went and ran into the ocean.

It was noon, the sun was blazing hot. After running into the waves, I felt the refreshing coolness of the water engulf my body. As I walked deeper into the ocean, the sound of the crashing waves got quieter and, with the occasional sharp shells under my feet, the sand felt softer. I kept going until I could no longer touch the sea floor and at that point, I started floating on my back, swaying on the waves. Although there were many people surrounding me, some surfing, some floating like me, and several boogie boarding, I felt at peace, as if I was in my own world. I felt like I was twelve years old again, coming to this very same beach, learning how to skim board for the first time. All I could focus on was the horizon line and the endlessness of the ocean. This was until I felt something brush against my leg. Concerned, I flipped over from my back and started slowly swimming back to the shore. Not even seconds after, I felt a rush of pain. A sting that felt like needles impaling my skin. My slow swim turned into a fast run. With the resistance of the water, I was using all my energy to return to my dad. The stinging in my leg was getting more intense by the minute and was beginning to blister.

When I showed my dad, he did not seem very worried. He knew what it was. “You got stung by a jellyfish,” he casually told me. He grew up in Georgia and had been stung many times in his life. The stinging lingered and became itchy. With the almost unbearable pain I was enduring, I insisted I get help from a lifeguard. The lifeguard treated it with vinegar, which eased the pain tremendously. Although the pain was temporary, I was timid about swimming in the ocean again. For the rest of our trip that summer, I refrained from going back in the water. While my family was at the beach, I chose to stay back and chill by the pool. I felt like I was missing out. When our trip came to an end, I felt unfulfilled. Although I had looked forward for that trip for a year, I felt like I had wasted it by choosing not to swim. I regret letting that one event affect me so harshly. Getting stung by the jellyfish was just unlucky. There was not anything I could have done to prevent it. It could have happened to anyone. So, I impatiently lived with that regret, and waited for the trip the next year. In the year that followed, aware of the risk of jellyfish, I swam more than ever.

Despite being timid about returning to the ocean, I came back the next year with the same excitement I possessed the years before. Although nature is beautiful and, for the most part, calm, there are always potential risks, especially if you are not aware of your surroundings. However, what’s more important is not letting scary events, like getting stung by a jellyfish, prevent you from exploring and experiencing nature. Additionally, events like these are not as common as you think. Nature is fascinating and has so many benefits to us as humans. Benefits such as helping people relax, stay active, and improve health; that entice us as humans to be present in nature. Don’t let one negative event prevent you from encountering the benefits of the outdoors. Nature should be celebrated, not feared.