Places that restore my soul definitely include beaches ever since I saw my first one when I was about 10. That was Boca Raton, Florida and we looked for shells back when you could find lots of big ones, went crabbing, my brother got stung by a Man o’War, and we learned about tides and undertows.

Since then, I’ve been to other beaches in Florida, beaches in Mexico, the Caribbean, Spain, California, Virginia, Mississippi, Hawaii, and Oregon. Probably others, too!

When I hit a beach, I walk, looking out to sea. I look down to see what has washed up. I pick up shells, rocks, driftwood, sand dollars, whatever I find. I know the names of lots of shells, refreshed when I go each time. I watch for ships, boats, whales, dolphins, sharks, fish, birds. I watch the sky, the water, the sand and rocks.

I feel small at the beach, less than a grain of sand, and that gives me peace. I am of the universe, of nature. All problems are small, all life is part of the ebb and flow of the sea.

I walk, I think, I remember, I take pictures. Here are some of my favorites…

Naples, Florida in the morning…

Naples, Florida at sunset…

My first view of an Oregon beach…

Elephant Seals in California…

California coast

Cannon Beach, Oregon from Ecola Park…

I’m on the Oregon coast now, never tiring of the ever changing shore, the pounding waves, the variety of beaches. I’m at peace in my heart…