I remember visiting this beach with Grandma when I was much younger than Duncan. Then, I made another visit to introduce Erik to this spot, shortly after we were married. Ever since Grandma brought us (me, Dave, and Kathy) to this beach, it’s been a place that draws me back. Naturally, I’d wanted to share the experience with Duncan, too. I hoped he’d see its unusual beauty and feel the tug of curiosity that this beach inspires.
Upon our arrival, we seemed to go our separate ways for a while—each to explore that which captivated us most while making us forget everything else. Then, as if the beach was breathing, we’d come together for a bit, separate again, come together once more, and part ways again and again. After all, there was so much to excite our interest: Tidal pools, visible erosion, infinite multicolored pebbles crunching underfoot, the whispering wind in our ears, and the roaring ocean that seemed to reverberate through everything as waves crashed against the rocks.
As I sat taking it all in, it dawned on me that this place is one of those touchstones I like to talk about—a place that I return to again and again through my life. The place is a reminder that life is wild, beautiful, and that with time, life has a way of leaving its mark on things. This beach causes me to consider my individual insignificance and my part in a collective importance. And I’m not sure why, but I find it deeply comforting.
I hope I walk this beach again with grandchildren of my own.