The Beach

Growing up in California,
We would make the drive to the beach
Only once or twice a year.
I would deal with the salty skin,
The sand in the swimsuit chafing,
The sting of sunscreen
And the inevitable pain of sunburn.
And who actually wants to go into the Pacific?

It wasn’t all bad, of course.
We flew a kite.
We walked the beach.
We looked in tide pools.
We dug a deep hole in the sand.

But the beach was something to endure, not enjoy.

So I am surprised to find myself entirely captivated
By the beauty of the beach in Carmel.
The waves are like none I have seen before,
As they rise up in green glass,
Crash into white foam.
The shush of the sand running back to sea,
The roar of the breakers.

Nature’s fireworks last all day,
Theme and variation.
The invitation: watch and be.