A winter’s day at the beach


It’s the lifeblood of existence. Nothing on this big blue marble can live without it. According to the U.S. Geological Survey nearly 72 percent of the earth’s surface is covered with water. 

The word water appears more than 400 times in the Bible, most associated with cleansing, healing and nourishment. And the cleansing, healing and nourishment elements of good old H2O are not only for the body, but for the mind and soul as well.

It’s no wonder that millions of humans across the planet migrate to vacation spots centered around warmth and water.

I have always found lakes, ponds, rivers, bays and oceans to be sources of comfort.

I find myself getting busier and busier as I get older. When I was a young man I thought just the opposite would be the case. But not so.

Stress, busyness and responsibilities are the norm.

To help burn away some of these maladies, I walk. During the cold months and lousy weather conditions, the treadmill is my path of choice.

But on Presidents Day, despite it falling in mid-winter, I opted to head out to Horseneck Beach in Westport for my daily walk.

As soon as I got out of the car, the salt air and the distant lapping of the waves on the shore gifted me with a calming effect.

After fulfilling my obligatory time and distance numbers, I found a big old log which had spent plenty of time at sea. My driftwood bench offered me a panoramic view of God’s country.

Two-foot waves, one after another, danced toward me, bowed, and returned from whence they came. During the few seconds when there was silence on the shore, I could faintly detect the melancholy chime of a buoy bobbing on the swells a couple of miles from shore.

The sky was deep blue, the water morphed from deep blue to emerald green depending on the depth. A gentle salty breeze added to the ambience.

For those precious moments, sitting on an old log, there was no stress, and there were no responsibilities. Life was just a day at the beach. Literally.


© 2018 The Anchor and Anchor Publishing   †   Fall River, Massachusetts