A life worth living, is a life worth writing about.
Cape Cod north coast, July of Summer 2009. Apparently we didn’t know much about high tide and low tide. We came equipped with lunches and chairs to sit by and take in the Atlantic ocean…whose tide line was- quite the ways a walk out. It seemed a distant journey to plop ourselves at it’s feet. None-the-less, we made it and set down our chairs. Why were those boats so close in? It was the day after we got married…that was the day we learned why it was the tide was so far a walk to reach. It began climbing up our legs. That’s when your mother high tailed it, showed us she could out run the ocean, “fit for survival”, I laughed, her distancing image fading into the shoreline while warm salt water creeped it’s way up my kneecaps. I wandered if I’d need to swim…abandon the chairs balanced on my head- give them up to the salty water in trade for my own life. We walked next to each other then, together racing high tide to shore. I tell people now, if you ever have the chance to race the tide- it’s worth the inching adrenaline.