Despite the siren call of the shore, I finished my Mindy photo essay.

So, now I have time to be, once again—in shore life.

I enjoyed sand time with the shore, sea, and air dwellers.

I saw a tyke’s first steps upon the sand, her mom building a tenuous memory, a sand castle of the mind. Don’t let this moment wash away, young mother; you may revisit it some far-off day. Maybe when she’s a cascade of white, stepping down a center aisle.

I remember my own first sand time; I hadn’t seen the ocean till I was eight or ten.

My dad had no car, but Mr. Herman down the street did; he took my brothers and me to Rockaway Beach.

I recall vividly the roar of the surf, my first sight of crashing waves, and the scent of salty air. Few memories match that exhilaration.

I remember Mr. Hermann, too.

That’s what kindness will do.

In this week of Long Beach bliss, fishermen worked to pull dinner from the sea.

Winged fishers hauled in their protein.

Up and away, these ospreys flew.

Where more winged life starts anew.

Dolphins wove the sea with a basting stitch.

Often, two by two.

Even the terns took their turn.

But a chopper scanning sand and sea,

seemed to have an alien

watching me.

But the greatest show was those who serve and save.

Our Long Beach lifeguards.

You’re not a Long Beach Lifeguard by just completing an application.

Lifeguards ran and dived, all training—to keep us alive.

As is often said, “Don’t try this at home.”—or on our jetties.

Too many disregard this sign.

And their families wished—it had been just a fine.

Looking seaward—for a wave to rise. A bit of diligence by the wise.

Some dove methodically.

Others, quite comically.

Some had their distinctive style.

Like this super fit aquaphile

This was a Crew workout.

It takes brass to climb and dive a jetty. These were not some summer hires, dear readers, but a brave band of Brothers and Sisters rising to the call.

I once belonged to such a band—as a younger man.

I recognized a camaraderie before me: an all-for-one-and-one-for-all cohesion in the air. You could hear it; you could feel it. A calling out by name with a—”Go, go, go!” I saw laughter and esprit de corps, a cheering on for a challenge met. Yes, these young would make damn fine Marines. I salute these guardians of life, these lean—rescue machines.

I too found waiting my turn the hardest part.

Yes, there was some tension,

But bravery—overcame—apprehension.

Triumphant, they jogged the sand…

…but not without a playful hand.

Be well,

Leebythesea