sand, sun, and the sea

When I was a kid I loved The Little Mermaid. In fact, I had the whole thing memorized-- from the sounding of the first note of "Fathoms Below" until the closing credits finished scrolling by. The thing I couldn't figure out, though, was why they Little Mermaid would want to leave the ocean. I mean, Sebastian was so right, "Darling, it's better down where it's wetter..."

I used to ask my mom why I wasn't born on an island. Why did I have to grow up in the middle of the Nevada desert? Sure there was plenty of beach, but where the heck was the ocean?



A few years ago my friend and I took a trip to Wales. For months before the trip I had felt literally pulled toward that coast. Everything I picked up to read, the movies I watched, had something to do with the sand and the sea. Stories of Selkies, fisherman, Pouliuli, Paikea, and my own ancestors ran in and away from my consciousness all the weeks leading to the trip. Finally we got to Wales, got ourselves set up in our little room, and after a nap I headed to the sea. I felt like I'd come home.

Last week Emma, Beeb and I went to Natural Bridges State Park in Santa Cruz, CA, known for their tide pools and monarch butterflies. Since butterfly season had come and gone we headed for the tide pools. (Well, Emma and I did. Beeb decided he wanted to spend his time digging for what he calls sand ticks-- actually, they're Pacific Mole Crabs, we looked it up. So off we go to the rocks, leaving Beeb in the watchful care of the gazillions of other moms and children on the beach.)

Because the tide had been out for quite some time, most of the folks of the tide pools had finished their lunch and dinner and had settled for a late afternoon nap. The anemones were tucked in, quiet. The crabs and starfish were settled deep in the shady crannies of the pools, even the seagulls were dozing on the high rocks. The sea ran in and away, the tide ready to turn within the hour.

Other people had come to see the tide pool show: a small French speaking family; two Japanese teenagers; a group of 20-somethings, smoking, swearing, and laughing; an older husband and wife who had come in their RV from Arkansas.

After a few hours we were all tired, scratchy with sand and salt. Time to go "home". I took of my Selkie seal skin, rolled it up to keep it safe for the next visit, packed up the lunch leftovers, and hiked my charges back up the beach to the mini-van. Little Mermaid came to mind, "A glorious day to be at sea! The salty sea air, the wind blowing in your face..."

Yes. It was a good day to be at sea.