Comfort Place

The waves thunder into shore. Seagulls banter in the sand. But I lay with my book in hand, watching as the sun sinks below the horizon. Tranquility is a pleasant change from my life’s chaos. I let my thoughts drift as I melt away in the sand.

Am I this character? Or perhaps, is she me?

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Couples walk hand in hand along the shoreline. Oblivious to it all, I sink deeper and deeper into the story. Here, I am alone with my thoughts. Reflecting. Analyzing. Enjoying.

Mothers and fathers lift their children from the sand and withdraw from their sandcastles. It’s funny, no matter what age, I don’t see a child cry or whine. Can they feel it too? The beauty. God’s creation. A profound treasure.

I remember the first time I sat here. It was a family vacation. My sisters and I spent hours imagining and creating games.

We sat in the sand, burying sea shells deep beneath its layers, only to strain through it moments later to uncover our riches.

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But my book draws me back. Transported to Venice, Italy, I race through the narrow streets with endless twists and turns. I, the orphan girl, am on the run. But why? I hear sirens. My heart pounds. Dread comes over me. I take a look back and see the motorcycles winding in between the people I pushed out of the way. Where am I going? Why am I so scared? What did I do? The Rialto Bridge. I see it. After a climb, I leap over the edge. Just as my head plunges under the water, I am reminded of where I am. The ocean tongue continues to lap at the shoreline.

The last time I was here, it was June. The hot sun beat down on my skin and the water offered a cool retreat. Volleyball Nationals finished days before. Swapping whistles for waves, sport courts for sand, and shambles for shells, I float on my back gently swaying with the tide. A period of recovery.

My love for the beach doesn’t spawn from its beauty, but rather from the memories it stores. Eyelids feeling heavier drift shut. My book slips out of my hand and the rolling thunder brings the promise of a new serenity. Just like the book, the beach allows me to turn a new page and continue on.