PHOTO: Mary van Balen Kill Devil Hills, NC Time on the beach is always a grace. This week my daughter and I spent three days there, walking, looking for shells, watching birds, listening to waves crashing and tides going out and coming in. We splashed through cold water and waded in tide pools, remembering ocean vacations with my parents. Mom loved the tide pools and sat in her beach chair right in the middle. She had a good eye for sharks’ teeth when walking along the oceans edge. With a sieve, she found some big ones in the tide pools.
Wonderful memories.
Kathryn and I enjoyed watching the sanderlings scurrying up to the water’s edge looking for food, and hurrying back up the beach when the waves flowed in. Some of the tiny birds stood on one leg…and as Kathryn noticed, hopped on one foot as often as running on two.
Time and distance are different at the beach. We lose time of both and walk further than we imagined. The beach demands attention. How can one ignore the salty wind, the hollow crash when a wave breaks along a sandbar, or the cold water circling your ankles or sliding up to your knees?
Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we just walked near each other, eyes combing the sand for shells or sea glass. Nothing in particular. Whatever the sea offers that day, that moment.
We had brought books. I had colored pencils and journals. But few pages were read, those mostly at night. No drawings this year. Just walking and being.
Prayer of Presence. Nothing required. No prayer books or Psalms. Just being and occasionally reverencing the Sacred in which all this creation-ocean, wildlife, people, my daughter and me- lived and breathed. It was enough. It was more than enough. 
Speak Your Mind