This is how the beach is.
One day, my children and I went out there and found ledges six feet high. The children were the first to jump off, coaxing me through my fear of getting hurt, “GERONIMO!”
Another day, it was cold and rainy. Roddy was in volcano mode and wanted to go practice eruptions. While Ian and I ran around throwing the football to stay warm, he shaped mountain after mountain – building them up and then exploding them with delight, “KABLAM!”
Last week, there was a hole deeper than Ian, big enough to shelter five kids from the wind that whipped at us from the ocean. I was on the beach flying a kite, giggling, struggling to hold on and hold my own against the powerful gusts.
Today, I went out to give my body a rest, to let the wind blow away my stress. There were no ledges. No volcanoes. No holes. Just sand swept clean and me thinking of the Mary Oliver poem, “Meanwhile the world goes on and offers itself to your imagination.”
