Warmed skin with a hint of clean sweat, wet bathing suit, and sweet coconut. Grains of sand on calves mixed with the popping tingle of salt water and the rush of diving into a body of water that is stronger and more powerful than you. Feeling small, like a child. Feeling small, like a grain of sand in an endless universe. Not scary, but a possibility. The crunch of sand between toes. The crisp shower that washes away those grains of sand, cools down sun warmed skin, softens hair again. The feel of rubbing oil or creme onto skin oversensitized from sand and sun scraping against it. The instant relief. Ahhhhh.
Something more primal. The crunch of a machete through coconut skin and flesh. The pleasant sloshing of the heavy, furry orb in your hand. That first sip - salted sweetness, cooler than the warm flesh in your palm, sliding down your throat.
Mixed with pine trees, dirt, campfire smoke. Long days evaporating into crisp nights. The lemony tang of citronella, sun-warmed cotton, rapidly cooling skin. The puffy slickness of a sleeping bag unrolled. Stars through the mesh at the top of the tent.
First furtive kisses. The first time someone pressed their lips (almost) against your ear and said, "mmmmmmm, you. smell. good." Someone else sliding their oiled palm on your calf, kneading tight muscles from playful exercise and exploration, soothing skin kissed by heat and sun and dirt.