“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
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