Beach Houses

Remember making forts when you were young?

On rainy days, every pillow and blanket that could be found in the house was utilized... especially the giant couch pillows. They made great walls. And even more fun than building them, was trying to climb inside them without creating an implosion. The most extreme care was taken not to disturb those fragile pillow walls, but, like a sandcastle destined for high tide, usually disaster struck at some point. All the more reason to build another, more solidly constructed one.

These driftwood forts seem to pop up overnight on my favourite beaches. I hardly ever see the same one twice, and when I find a new one, I can't help but want to climb inside, or at the very least, peek inside the windows. I think these are big-kid-constructed forts. Adults build them to try and reclaim their inner Tom Sawyer. Some of them are so incredibly elaborate. So creative. So deliciously playful. They make great shelters on windy days. They make great secret hideaways for romantics.

But as fast as they go up, they mysteriously disappear. Do some people find the same joy in destroying them as others do when they build them? Is it like squashing the sandcastle before the ocean claims it? And why do I never see a fort in the making (or destroying) in progress? Maybe the crows are building them in the middle of the night?

Let Me Be a Castaway

I wanted to ask... can I borrow your boat? Can I row out a little ways, just so I can see the view of the shoreline from out there? So I can release myself from the certainty of solid ground underfoot?

There are adventures to be had in little boats such as these. My inner pirate is swooning.

My brother once took the roll of captain and invited me on a watery magic carpet ride. It was dark. Just a sliver of milky moonlight led the path out of the safety and security of Secret Cove into deep open waters. The rough choppy waves seemed to take teasing delight in tossing our little boat to and fro... just past my comfort level. But my captain was steadfast.

He didn't tell me why we were headed into the black abyss. Perhaps I was a little too trusting. But I know my brother, and I am well aware that he is a magnet for all things adventurous.

He cut the small motor. And I felt small in all that expansive quiet. Vulnerable. But anticipatory. What wizardry was he going to pull out of his sleeve this night? He asked me then to put my hand in the water. And swish it around a little.

Well... a whole new world of spectacular opened up to me in that moment. The water began to glow. A brilliant green sparkle exploded in all directions. Fireflies of the sea were dancing in my retinas, burning a memory into my heart that still enchants me to this day when I reminisce.

Growing up in the dry, semi-desert interior, I was new to the marine world. I hadn't lived next to the ocean yet and I didn't know about bioluminescence. And for years after that experience, I still didn't know if it was a chemical reaction occurring in the water, or if it was a living entity. I almost didn't want to know... in the same way you don't want to know a magician's tricks. I loved the mystery.

I've been lucky enough to see this phenomena twice in my life... once from the surface, and once during a night dive which almost took my breath away in its dizzying magnificence.

Looking at these shore-bound boats, I can't help but dream of future adventures. I don't need to sail around the world to find awe and wonder. I prefer small expeditions. They can be just as unforgettable.

The Sweet Allure

There is a tangled weave of buds growing from my veins.

Momentary bursts of euphoria invade my consciousness,
fragmented and soft like a morning dream.

I'm longing for something, even if I'm not clear what that is just yet.

All I know for sure is that my craving for beauty is tangible. 

I want to touch it

breathe it

live within it

It must be spring.