The cars parked along side the road tell me that others had the same idea. That’s no surprise, since it’s a sunny blue sky Saturday. The once smooth sand is riddled with shoe prints now; other beach goers beat me here. Heading south at a slow jog, my eyes are pealed for beach glass. It’s been a long winter of no glass hunting, so it’s fun when one is spotted.
The huge piles of ice formed by winter waves are all melted now. But their effect on the beach has left sand bar like peninsulas stretched out parallel to the shoreline. I’ve been on one of these peninsulas for a while, but now I find myself at a point of decision. Blocking my progress is a water trench separating the peninsula I’m on from another one that stretches further south. I would probably get wet trying to cross it, so I turn and head back the way I had come. Then suddenly changing my mind, I turn back, and break into a sprint. At the edge of the water trench I leap, and soar across the trench, barely clearing the water. But the landing strip is saturated sand, so my steps sink ankle deep. Am I concerned about wet feet? No. I raise my arms and pump my fists in celebration, like Rocky did at the top of those steps!
Now I’m exploring this new peninsula, and quickly discover two things. There’s beach glass in abundance, and there’s also no foot prints anywhere. As I pick up one piece of glass after another, I think about how close I came to turning back. I could have missed out on all this adventure.
Lord, lead me to take adventurous steps, to places where there are no foot prints in the sand.
Posted on
Sat, March 19, 2011
by Chris Spitters