It’s a bag. You put your stuff in it, a small percentage of your belongings, and carry it with you so your current lifestyle doesn’t diminish too much. In this case, it holds beach survival materials:
towels to dry skin,
a brush to keep hair manageable,
sandals to avoid roasty toes,
skin lotion meant to bring ultra-violet rays to their knees,
a big straw hat to hide the forehead,
dark glasses to comfort eyeballs,
a smartphone used to listen to the monsters of soft rock; record the kids being swallowed by a wave; calculate the tip for two Pan-Galactic Gargle Blasters; check the local weather for lightning strikes; send emails to the lawyer; update social media to say “Wheeeeee!”; phone to order the ‘meat and croutons’ plate from Saggy’s for snacktime; set the AC for cool, cool comfort upon coming home; text a reminder to a cube-bound sales associate; and set the alarm to rearrange the umbrella,
a paperback about the love between a man and a woman and the crisis that arises when a swarthy Mediterranean pirate boards their yacht,
inflatable beach toys and plastic shovels to keep kids occupied,
… and, yes, the list can go on and on depending how wed you are to technology, belongings and your looks.
This bag came to our home via My Sweet Rib, probably through work or a local university. The Purging Lutheran isn’t even sure why we got rid of it. Probably because we have several bags that could hold most of those items listed. Let’s go with that.
Mark 6:31 Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.”