People On The Beach

A Life at the Beach

My connection to the beach began as a small child when my parents took my sister and me to Coney Island, New York. I can still hear the noise of the people at the amusement park; the distinct smell of vanilla ice cream on the boardwalk; the feel of the cool sand under my feet below the boardwalk; and the contrasting burn of the sun-heated wood above.

Through yearly trips to Miami Beach growing up, I came to love the beach; but it wasn't until I was fourteen in the summer of 1976 that I fell in love with the beach as a place to find answers, and at times more questions.

That summer, staying with my family in a familiar hotel, I was a shy kid falling into "true love" for the first time. The object of my affection was a sixteen-year-old girl, who was probably flattered by my obvious longing for her company; but she was equally chasing a nineteen-year-old boy of her own dreams. Those few weeks consisted of watching her from afar as she swam, played pool, and hung out with her girl friends.

The beach in those days was very narrow, a victim of constant erosion, permitting the waves to encroach upon buildings at numerous locations. The property just north of my hotel (at Thirty-eighth Street) was one of these places. It had a seawall that took the constant beating of the waves at high tide. One late afternoon, an image of "my girl" was burned into my heart and mind that hasn't left me yet. There she was, sitting close to that nineteen-year-old boy on the seawall with the waves crashing just below their feet, the spray flying nearly vertical to their perch. The two were clearly enjoying each moment, laughing in the special moments they were sharing in each other's company.

I wished deep in my heart that it were me, and not him.

Yet it wasn't until 1984 that the beach began its transformation to a place of solitude and contemplation for me. A place I could ponder my life, my love relationships, my purpose and my path. Through the years, the soft, cool sand in the early morning or late afternoon, the stillness of the beach broken only by the soft lapping waves in the morning or the thunderous crash of the surf as the winds picked up, and the seagull calling to the wind have provided me a shelter from the storms which brewed in my life.

This book finds people on the beach. Some are searching for answers while others are escaping their problems. Some come away lost while others find peace in the understanding.

Love, like life, comes and goes. As does the ocean, as does the sand. When the storms stir the waves up, the sand disappears into the ocean.

And then one day: renewal.

A sandbar forms offshore; by the next day, the sand has been returned to the beach, now stronger and larger than before.