“We Are The Spirit”

     It took a walk on the beach at sunset for me to realize the true “spirit of things.”

      In the early 70’s, we spent the summers at our little house near the South Jersey Shore.  Our house was one of seventy-five or so, located on the marshland, known as “Grassy Sound.”  Those who lived there had “squatter’s rights,” paying a yearly tax.  The make-shift houses were built on stilts and sat on a three-mile stretch of narrow road leading to Angle Sea.  A narrow and rickety bridge led to the Wildwood beaches on the other side. 

 

     During the twelve years that we vacationed there, I witnessed the growing traffic with each summer. A very old, narrow highway and a rickety old draw bridge, kept traffic backed up for a mile. When the bridge was “up” to let the fishing boats pass through, it took even longer to get to the beach.

 

     I would take the children to the beach in the morning, before the “Philly” crowd rolled in.  Countless lifeguards stations, were placed along the crowded beach.  Parents were kept busy counting heads, lathering little bodies with sun screen and swatting flies that were attracted by the food brought in.  The children were oblivious to all this, while they splashed in the cool sea and built their sand castles.

 

     Everyone had a pier in the back of their cottage and at least one row boat.  We had an outboard and spent a lot of our time winding through the canals, crabbing or catching minnows. I can still see our sweet dog, Roxie, sitting on the pier, waiting for our return.

When we returned, the children would watch the minnows swim away, after we returned them to the water once more. We cooked and ate the crabs, so delicious and sweet.

 

     The tide came in and out, twice a day.  Every day, it was one hour later than the day before.  When it was full moon, the tide was always higher, our favorite time.  The marsh grass that waved gently in the summer breeze would be covered with water.  The sound of fish plopping in and out of the water was delightful.  The water slapping against the pilings, provided a peaceful slumber.  My oldest son, Erich, until the age of ten, pretended that we lived on a houseboat and he was the captain.

 

     We had many cookouts with our family and friends.  We laughed, ate and had good times on our back pier.  One only needed to look to the left and to the right to see our other neighbors engaged in similar activities.  Always a friendly wave, we were community.  Visitors were told that you never were a part of “Grassy” unless you fell off the pier at least once!  With a few beers under their belts, a guest could easily be dubbed, “Official Grassy Resident”. 

 

     The seagulls knew when it was dinnertime.  The children and I would delight in feeding them.  All you needed to do was wave your hand and they came from every direction.  There was one large white seagull that Erich named “Petey.”  He sat on a large post at the end of the pier and was always the first to fly overhead. To have them come so close to you was truly amazing.  How beautiful and graceful they were!

                                                                                     

     My favorite time was going back down to the beach at sunset.  The children and our faithful spaniel, loved to roam the beaches with me.  Sometimes there were treasures to be found among the things left or forgotten by the daily visitors.  The children would run, splash and dig to their hearts’ content.  Their eyes were wide with discovery when they found anything at all.  I was more aware of the joy and innocence in their eyes at these special times than any other. 

 

     We would walk along the waters’ edge, the waves tickling our toes.  We loved it when the waves were on their way out again, leaving our feet sinking only deeper into the smooth velvety sand.  Roxie was constantly backing away from the water.  How she hated to get wet!  The higher waves would spray our faces, leaving us wonderfully refreshed.  How soothing it felt on our sunburn!  As quickly as they came, the waves would back away.  It was as if they were forever teasing us. We stayed, enjoying the moment, hating to leave.

 

     I enjoyed this solitude even more at sunrise.  When I wasn’t too lazy that morning, the dog and I would sneak down to the beach.  The beach sweepers had done their job well.  A clean, endless beach as far as the eye could see.  It was as if the sea was its’ blanket and the white fluffy clouds were its’ pillows.  I felt as if the earth and I shared a mystery that no one would ever understand.  In those years I would never have admitted  to these feelings verbally or in writing!

 

     I hated to board up the house in the fall.  Those walks on the beach gave me an inner peace, growing more conscious of it with each passing summer.  It was there that I first realized how endless the ocean seemed and what eternity really meant.  Her waves were endless and forever.  I was aware too, of the real power and beauty that lay before me.  The spirit of the sea surrounded me, making me feel safe.

 

     This was over three decades ago and before the “Wet Lands Act” was passed.  “Grassy” as we squatters affectionately called it, no longer exists today.  The houses are gone now and in their place is a modern, efficient highway.  The memories of those years and our many walks on the beach will live in my heart always.

 

     I was a minute, but important part in this “spirit of things.”  The seagulls’ cry overhead and the power of the ocean surrounded me with their songs.  The smell of the salt air and beauty of the sunrise are planted deep within my being.  When I visualize the sea and all her grace, it calms and soothes me.  Not only does this scenario remind me that I am just a small piece in this very large puzzle, but that I play an important role in this scheme of things.  I have a purpose and I am but a small part in all that surrounds me.  I realized then that man, earth and the universe are truly one.

 

     Like the seagulls circling above, we are spirits joined together in our ever-ending search for tranquility and peace.  Each of us has a place in the sun, whether we call it “Grassy” or by any other name.  What part our spirit plays in our chosen place, is totally up to each and every one of us.

                                                            The beginning............

 

 

Written By Janice Weinberger in April 1995

Revised: March 2001

 

 

 

 

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