All These Places

When running on the beach, the best place to be is the part of sand where the tide has just receded.  Here the sand is firmly packed and smoothly polished and bounces back easily from footfalls.  Further up on the beach towards the pastel houses, the sand is sinky and pliant and better served to leisurely shorewalkers looking for shells. 

But today I want to run.  I want to turn my upbeat music on just loud enough so that I can still hear the waves crashing.  I want to feel the sweat rain down my face and my breath come ragged.  I want to hit the sand and see my footprints stretch behind me to show that I have come and gone in quick succession.

And here’s the thing.  My footsteps will quickly be erased by the water or by other footsteps.  Proof gone so soon as if I was never there. 

Here on the East Coast, these tides are happening constantly.  It was low tide at 5:30 this morning and will be again right at about happy hour.  The waves are constantly going in and out, creating this smooth line of sand where footsteps can fall anew.  As I ran, the tide was coming in, pushing the walkers further and further up, erasing evidence and taking shells in its wake. 

It’s one of the many reasons that I have always found an extreme beauty in the beach.  It’s the constant cycle of footsteps and erasing of footsteps, the promise of new beginnings with each tide.  It’s the uncovering of new shells, new discoveries with each wave.  It’s a beauty that comes throughout the day and the same beauty has been occurring over the eons of time. 

The erasing of my footsteps was something that I loved when I first discovered the ocean as a child, it’s the thing that I love now as my feet grow older and my face starts to show some wrinkles.  It will be the thing that I love, if all works out, when I am walking the beach thirty years from now.            

It’s the gentle reminder that wherever my footsteps may take me, I will always get the chance to look back and see them, take comfort in their presence but knowing that they can be remade with each passing tide.