The Beach - A Mother's Perspective

I’m at the Oregon Inlet beach with my son, Logan, on the Outer Banks, North Carolina. He is surf fishing for the first time while I contemplate drawing the ocean. I’ve decided the waves are much too busy for my untrained eye-hand coordination to capture.

B brought me here about 18 years ago when we first met. Fresh love walked up and down the beach with us, romped in the sun with us, explored the Outer Banks with us. We camped a lot back then; weekends, holidays, vacations. We have scrapbooks and pictures of campsites with fishing tackle laid about. We jokingly titled our Oregon Inlet trips in B’s honor as Daniel Boone Goes to the Beach. It’s hard to believe that this is  Logan’s first camping trip with us at age 12-1/2.

As we walked the beach for the first time yesterday, we were looking for shells. (Okay, I was looking for shells.) Logan was loving the waves and merely biding time with me until he could swim and body surf again. As I picked up broken bits and pieces and an occasional half clam shell still in tact, there was a soft rap at my brain; some recollection trying to hone in. Yes, it was from before..when B and I walked the beaches picking up shells. All aspects of life together was special then; every encounter, every moment, every touch. Magic was all around us and in us. B and I walked through the waves day and night holding hands, talking about everything and nothing. And in the midst of all this magic was this feeling that the ocean held within it a most enchanted gift especially for me. My mind conjured up visions of mermaids and huge, beautiful conch shells. I was sure they would appear if I just looked at the right time and place. My eyes searched while my feet dredged the sand looking for a sign, a fleeting glimpse. Nothing ever came to light, but I never gave up hope. I knew they were there and when we left Oregon Inlet, that knowledge seemed to be enough.

So now I’m walking the beach again trying to recapture the essence of this feeling when “Mom! Mom! I saw a fish crawl out of the sand and run into the ocean!” and it hit me like a powerful wave. Out loud I laughed and asked for details. Inwardly, my body shook, my mind exploded and my eyes rapidly blinked back giant tears. There was no recapturing necessary. This was the right time and the right place to understand that reminiscent hint of my most enchanted gift.

Written by Teri Lee
Summer 2002