By Kayleigh Schoen
3rd Runner Up in our Win a Winter Getaway to the Oregon Coast Contest
When I was a little girl, a very little girl, my mom and dad used to go deposit cans and bottles, whip up a picnic lunch, load all of us kids up in the car and head to Harris Beach. Those were the very best days of summer. The first time I’d seen the ocean it frightened me, but in this particular memory, I couldn’t be dragged away. There’s something about recalling and trying to remember the true sense of awe you experience as a child when you discover the magic in a tide pool, or pick up the first piece of sea glass you’ve ever seen and the first shock of chilly water after your first attempt to make friends with a vast sea. We were brave, my sister and I, and the roaring, crashing waves weren’t going to stop us… but they tried. For hours and hours we leapt over wave after wave, granted we were four and five years old and anything with a white cap that curled into the sand was considered a wave. Not once did we get hit, or fall down, or give in to the goose bumps creeping up and down our arms and legs. We ran towards the rising swells as if to challenge them, then turned, screaming, to run towards the pebbled beach… tricking that water into pursuit (which never failed) and then turned and jumped, letting the wave shrink back in defeat. Somehow I’ve never forgotten that day and the complete joy that consumed me (except for the stubbed toe and being forced to break for lunch). Someday I look forward to watching my little ones’ eyes grow wide the first time they see the glittering water stretching on into forever. And then maybe I’ll play our game again.