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Have you ever heard of that place? That place that everyone is supposed to have for himself. The place where you're supposed to go to get away from everything. The place that may be far away or right upstairs or in your mind or wherever, just a place. I never had a place, not until I turned 16 and got my license. It was then that I rediscovered a place I'd been to so many times before. In a moment I saw it with fresh eyes and a new spirit. My place is the beach. Any beach, it makes no difference, just one that isn't swarming with people.
Previous to my days as an independent visitor, the beach was an endless playground. All day was spent riding the waves on inflated rings and ducks and frogs. Every log, rock, and cave was my personal jungle gym, one that was waiting for me just as I left it upon each return. Some of the beaches had tide pools, which I would explore with a stick and anything but a steady hand. There were anemones and starfish to bug and crabs to seek vengeance on for the terror they struck in me. The continuous search for grand seashells are what kept me going when my energy had run low and the adults were still trudging along at their grueling pace. All the while, through my fun and exasperating days at the beach, I remembered to keep a watchful eye on the ocean and particularly on the offshore breakers, where sneaker waves are born. Sneaker wave is a common term used to describe the crippling gushes of water that commonly bombards the beaches of the world. Sneaker waves proceed out of the breakers as innocent current, waiting until one's guard is let down to pounce on unsuspecting visitors. So often, visitors resting on the dry sand that lured them into a false sense of security find themselves suddenly terrorized by the infamous sneaker wave.
I most often encountered the sneaker wave to the Oregon coast, where my fears of the sneaker wave began. It was on a family visit to Cape Lookout, a peninsula with a long narrow strip of beach and relatively few visitors. I was about five and it was nearing the end of our day at the beach. My father and mother, a couple that were close friends of theirs, and myself, were making our way down the beach headed back to the car. I almost made it home dry and happy when the sneaker wave sought me out. I saw it from the corner of my eye, it started behind me, swiftly and with the slightest murmur it caught up to my bare legs. The sudden chill sent me running to what, to me at the time was a giant boulder. This boulder, a big rock that stood a merefeet or so above the sand and was just wide enough for me to fit both feet on, was apparently going to save me from the evil sneaker wave. I shouted to my fleeing parents, "Look, I'm safe. It can't get me!" Well whatever I thought at the time, I thought wrong. All of a sudden I was down, drenched and crying out for relief from the pinching cold that covered my body.
I can't recall when the beach changed from a playground with a hidden danger into the safe haven that it now is for me. It was somewhat gradual; as I grew older I began to really appreciate the beauty of the ocean, the shoreline, the sea life and entire atmosphere that embraces each visitor that asks only to be embraced as gently. The beaches along the Oregon coast were the first place I sought to go after I got my license. I drove a shorthours or so but was ultimately transported into a different world all together. A serene yet simplistic wonderland awaited me. As with any beach these days, if I'm a lone visitor the long walks I take give me time to reflect every aspects of my life, time to think of family, friends, plans for the future, or nothing at all. I am secluded but not lonely when it's just me at the beach surrounded by everlasting, restless waters and teased by the chilling salty wind that stings my skin but soothes my soul. It's rare for me to venture into the frigid waters of the Pacific Ocean this far north, for when I do venture into the bone chilling waters I am burned by the icy waves as they inch father up my body. It's a rush that requires me to be in a certain frame of mind to acquire.
The beaches of the world are all so unique and can offer every person a different experience on each visit. This is what I love about it. It's exactly why it my place to retreat to whenever I get the chance. All beaches are never ending but always offer the same elements of comfort and serenity upon each visit. Whatever beach I visit I find what I wish to there, beauty, freedom, hope, and peaceful moments that I can keep to myself forever. The beach is my place.
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