Yesterday, while at a check-up, a nurse asked me a simple, lighthearted question: “What do you like to do the most at the beach?” Without thinking, I answered, “Nothing.” We both laughed, sharing that brief, knowing connection that comes with admitting a small “laziness.” But as the laughter subsided, I tried to explain myself. I…
Chaos at the Shore
The peace and tranquility of the beach underwent a seismic shift yesterday. It wasn’t the arrival of a sudden Atlantic thunderstorm, nor was it the warning siren of a shark sighting that broke the spell of the tide. The change was far more profound, and infinitely louder. My daughter Kelley arrived with her husband and…
The Ocean Listens
Yesterday, while reading on the porch, I found myself captivated by a sudden, humbling question: Does the ocean listen back? We know the immense restorative power of listening to the tide—the way the rhythmic heave and sigh of the surf can recalibrate a restless heart. But we rarely consider if there is a witness within…
Could Be
Occasionally on vacation, I find myself watching a truly terrible movie. I don’t mean the “sappy-but-sweet” variety—which I’ll admit to enjoying—but the kind of obscure, bottom-shelf cinema that most people have never heard of. Last night, I did it again. It was so poorly made I won’t even tempt you with the title, yet it…
Reflections From The Shore
Good morning! I am currently taking my customary post-Easter retreat, a time of quiet recalibration. Here at the beach, the rhythm of the day is dictated by the steady, percussive pulse of the Atlantic—the kind of deep, ancient roar that makes the clamor of the world feel suddenly very small. The beach is a canvas…