A couple of years ago, my wife and I were planning a trip to Disneyland. Out of nowhere, she asked if I’d mind detouring and heading down to Del Mar, north of San Diego. She’d found a motel on the beach – I mean, right on the sand, yards from the water – and thought it would be fun to splash in the water for a little and then drive up the coast to Orange County.
Thus a fascination with Del Mar was born.
But even beyond that, there was one moment when I stood in the surf that I knew I’d have to write about. I simply closed my eyes and focused on the salty water as it splashed around me. And I noticed that when the surf retreated, the sand was pulled out from under my feet.
I shifted slightly to maintain my balance, only to have another wave wash sand over my toes, up to my ankle, and then suck the sand back out from under, lowering me further.
It was a minor moment, no more than a couple of minutes. But, for all the times I’d stood in the ocean before, it was something I’d never noticed. Maybe the lesson then was just to slow down and take a better look at the beauty that surrounds us.
