I can close my eyes and go there effortlessly in my mind, forgetting every conceivable earthly care. In this place, I step off of this merry-go-round called life, and hide away for a week of ecstasy. I bound down the two flights of burgundy painted steps of the Navy Lodge in San Diego, glide through the corridors, and there I am on the magestic side walk that leads to the beach on Coronado Island. Only a few short steps and I kick off my flip flops letting nature's masseuse do her handy work and my feet are transformed in an instant. The sand magically turns from a coarse grainy texture to a silky smooth velvety carpet and all at once I feel like I am floating on my mile long trek to the beach. I pass the three grass umbrella tables on the right and the guard shack on the left, and there I am. I have now entered the dreamy haven, I call bliss.
Every cell of my being comes alive with excitement as I have one thing and one thing only on my mind: The hunt for every imaginable sea treasure that washes upon the shore line and deposits itself at my feet. With a spring in my step, I let go of yesterday’s woes and cares flinging them one by one to the wind. The salty air envelopes me and the misty breeze sprays my face like intricate and timely clock work. My skin drinks in the moisture like a dry sponge yearning for immersion. There on the sea shore of Coronado Island, I receive an exotic kelp facial, compliments of the sea.
Mounds of seaweed lay sporadically along the sandy seashore. I playfully stop and squish the bulbs between my toes yearning to hear the popping sound. I continue a short distance and then press my feet into the wet glittery sand to make an imprint and then wistfully run into the ocean to rinse the sand off.
I play tag with the waves as they wash over my feet one by one, making perfect zig zags in the sand. The sun shines on the gold glitter strewn sea shore giving it a whimsical and mystical feel. A mother sand piper scampers down the shore line with three babies dutifully following behind her like a perfectly juxtaposed assembly line. Seagulls gracefully swoop in and out before me making seaward calls in the wind.
Small children in bathing suits create perfect sand castles while their parents bask in the gentile ambiance of the sunshine in their lawn chairs. The whoosh of the waves crashing against the sea shore back masks the playful laughter and giggles as they work their sand magic with neon colored sand pails and shovels.
There looming in the distance is the mystical and famous red-roofed castle and mansion, the Hotel Del Coronado. The chosen subject for many an artist's palette, I momentarily get lost in its embrace and then continue my hunt for sea treasures.
I pick up first one shell and then another, closely examining each one for unique and special qualities, always looking for the prize winning shell to display at home as a remembrance of our sea side adventure. I watch each breaking wave with great anticipation hoping the sea will cough up a rare and unsurpassed treasure; a piece of drift wood to be crafted into a novel delight, an out-of-the ordinary shell to decorate my entertainment center and most of all, a whole sand dollar housing the three tiny white treasured doves.
It is here, in this place, that I get lost in the gentle embrace of the ocean breeze that coarses through every fiber of my being. Freedom envelopes me and I begin singing to my Creator in perfect abandon. Something childlike and magical is unleashed on the inside of me like the dross that comes to the top of the kiln when silver is refined. I bask in the gentle ambiance of the sea and it is here, in the menagerie of Coronado Island, that I am carried away in the peaceful, sweet presence of the Creator of the Universe.
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