Beach Days

We are currently sitting on the beach at Litchfield by the Sea with Johanna's friend Sarah who came into town for a visit on her birthday. The first full day of summer is beautiful, though the notorious southern heat has already reared her head.  The beaches are packed, families of all types gathered in a sense of communal worship of the ocean. Many writers have gone on much more eloquently than I to describe the allure that continually draws us back to the water. But I have always found the attraction of water to a land based species quite intriguing. The land that makes up the beaches of the Grand Stran was once considered worthless except for the timber. Now lots sell for a million dollars. Is our love of the ocean a success of tourism marketing? Or has something deeper been there since the beginning of mankind? 
A coworker's son died this week much too young. He was the type that always lived free. Whether pursuing his dream of hiking the Appalachian Trail or traveling the country finding work to support himself but always leaving the door open for the next adventure. I think it's his life that shows why we find ourselves time and time again at the water's edge. It is the horizon just beyond our visual expanse. It is the belief that something larger than us is at work, something that offers endless possibilities.