I think we can all agree the world is ending. As such, I’m choosing to spend my precious remaining time celebrating the rich mosaic of experiences the world has to offer. I’m a longtime La Croix adherent. You could say I’m part of the La Croix hoi polloi. These beverage wizards understand a love of chaos, and the brand aligns with my personal commitment to maximalism. Why would I meet my hydration needs with the tap when La Croix exists? I, too, like to bitchslap the still waters of life with vibrant flavor. Sparkle it. Make it explode.

La Croix unleashed Beach Plum as one in a trio of warm-weather flavors along with Guava São Paulo and Black Razzberry, the three harbingers of summer. I’m unsuited for the beach in almost every way. My pale, sun-intolerant skin suggests that it’s only been a few generations since my Scandinavian ancestors rode reindeer across the tundra. But due to factors outside of my control, I now find myself the reluctant resident of a small beach town on the Pacific coast. So when I encountered the Beach Plum flavor, I leaned into my aforementioned apocalypse philosophy and said, “When in Rome.”

Let’s get some superficial things out of the way first. I assume the name “beach plum” is a play on “beach bum.” I admit I smiled, but I quickly stifled it. I am not the type of woman you would ever describe as breezy. At all times, my DNA screams, “HAVE TEN HEARTY BABIES AND SURVIVE THE HARD WINTER!!” It will take more than a sweaty summertime pun on a can for me to abandon arctic darkness.

I should mention the can. To my knowledge, Beach Plum is the only flavor for which La Croix abandoned its signature brushstroke design. Here, they’ve allowed a graphic designer to wild out in a fit of Victorian-era sea madness. The result is a full bleed beachscape overlaid with crosssection illustrations of fruit that I’d describe politely as, ahem, “O’Keefian.”

Then there’s the flavor concept. The plum isn’t one of the tropical fruits associated with sticky vacation frolicking. But Beach Pineapple or Beach Papaya would be a bit too on the nose, don’t you think? I want to be surprised. I want to be titillated. I want my body to be coursing with a background hum of erotic, electrified fear. La Croix knows all of this.

The North American plum is better suited to the orchards of New England than the tropics. It thrives in the USDA Plant Hardiness Zones 3-8 which, honestly, doesn’t mean a lot to me because I didn’t go to farm school. But I do know that the marriage of coconut to plum is a cosmic slap to geographical order. And yet it works.

Beach Plum La Croix is indeed delicious with notes of plum, coconut, juicy green apple, and burnt sugar. But more importantly, Beach Plum La Croix is an exploration of duality. I considered this dichotomy as I enjoyed my drink at the pier. Surfers donned wetsuits under the specter of undertow warning signs and tsunami evacuation route markers. I sipped and watched families splash and play, oblivious to the knowledge that the ocean is an unforgiving mother, whose fury at our countless betrayals will one day bring humanity to its knees.

If La Croix can successfully combine the smooth warmth of summer flavors with a shock of tart stone fruit, perhaps there’s hope for me, an ice monster gone nautical. In Beach Plum La Croix I found a beverage that cradled my face and said to me, “You are a bog person. But you can stay.”

I finished my can of Beach Plum as the sun began to set over the Pacific Ocean. I whispered, “We have only explored twenty percent of the ocean’s depths, and when the sea reclaims us as her own, we will be forced to face the unknowable.” I turned my attention back to the horizon, contemplating the watery abyss with a stinging mouthful of sweet effervescence.