Hello, Sunset Seekers!
Thinking about long ago summers.
on summer solstice
the stars send me a message,
return to the sea
I have lived within an hour of the Pacific Ocean for all but seven years of my life. I have spent innumerable hours on its beaches and in its waters. But I still remember the first time I ever saw the ocean.
I was four, and we were living in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, in Colorado. My dad took my mom, my younger sister Anji, and me along on a business trip to California. Like our drive across the Golden Gate Bridge, most of the specifics of the trip are shrouded in a thick haze.
We drove the length of the state, and our parents took us to Disneyland for the first time.
But, what I remember most was the ocean.
We went to a beach my parents had loved when they were newlyweds living in Southern California. It was hot, the tide was out, and the briny ocean breeze tickled my nose. Mom held our hands as she, Anji, and I sprinted over the blistering dry sand toward the wet, dark sand.
I could see the thin white clouds and the seagulls reflected on the veneer of water that still remained on the beach after the tide had gone out.
My mom hunched down and helped me look for seashells and rocks.
She eventually coaxed me into putting my feet into the waves. The water was cool, but not cold. I giggled and struggled to pull free of Mom. She held on tight.
Later Dad would stand with me in the waves, holding my hand. He taught me to dig my feet into the sand and let the waves wash over them. After facing the horizon for what felt like forever, Dad told me to turn around. I was stunned to see how far away Mom and Anji seemed. I could see the trail our feet had made as the ocean had dragged us out.
We stayed at the beach all day. We retreated back up the beach as the tide came back in. We made sand castles, flew a kite, lost a kite, and ate a sandy picnic.
That day at the beach was the first time I ever saw the ocean, the first time I ever touched the Pacific, the first time I ever watched the sun sink into the horizon—melting into the ocean, and it was the last time I would ever be able to experience all that for the first time.
Be the poetry you want to see in the world!
Cheers,
Jason
Ocean memories are sacred, and up there with tree/forest memories!
Beautiful newsletter!!!