A long time ago, when I was in college and interning at a television station in Jacksonville, I went on a date to St. Augustine Beach.
The guy wanted to impress me. I’d never been there.
He did impress me. I fell in love.
Not with him….but with this beach.
Big beautiful, white sand beaches, with dunes and dolphins out in the waves and little beach bungalows on shore.
A few years later, I met a photographer in Little Rock, fell in love and found out he too loved St. Augustine Beach. He grew up in Jacksonville. The beach was where his family vacationed every year.
When we married, that was part of the deal. At least one week of the year would be spent on St. Augustine Beach.
36 years later, every August, we still make the pilgrimage with family.
Over time, I’ve brought every worry and hope to this beach. I’ve written books, taught our daughter to fly a kite, made sand castles, recovered from surgeries, or recharged from work.
It’s been home base to dare, go explore, try new things, climb a lighthouse or go to an alligator farm, learn to surf, …or just be; be with family, be without makeup, or schedule.
I walk this beach and I can be any age I want. It’s my own personal time machine. I can go back in time, even forward sometimes, imagining what’s to come…
Good years, bad years, we come, no matter what.
It may be the only tradition we absolutely keep, without exception.
We’ve moved many times. Homes change. Jobs change. Loved ones pass. So grateful for one little place on earth I touch down on every year that is the same.
We go off and do new daring things again, knowing we’ll be back next year.
Where is your time machine?
You know; the place you return to over and over again?
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