Raised By The Bay
Growing up, I lived on a lagoon. I was raised in a quiet little town that bordered the bay. Though we were right across the bay from Long Beach Island, our town was a quiet one, with not much to do. We had to be creative in order to keep entertained. I remember picking leaves and berries from the various trees in my yard and making “magic soups” in the street. Or climbing over the outdoor shower with my neighbor and pretending we were on a completely different planet. Yet, the best way for us to have fun, was always on the water.
Looking back, I have to laugh at some of the things we did. My neighbor Billy and I would pile seaweed on our heads and pretend we were the creature from the black lagoon. Swimming under docks was another favorite activity of ours, especially when the tides were high. As a matter of fact, sometimes the tide would get so high, it would rise a good foot above the “low dock.” We would run as fast as we could and try to trick ourselves into thinking that we didn’t know the dock was ending up ahead.
We did a pretty good job of staving off the boredom…most of the time. Sometimes, however, we had to resort to mud-throwing contests. This was not so much a contest, as it was us picking up the biggest handful of smelly, mucky bay bottom we could, and tossing it at our bulkhead. Along with seaweed, this delicious smelling stuff made its’ way onto our arms and heads. Yikes! Regardless of the fact that I wouldn’t dream of doing this today, I look back on these times as some of the best.
Good times were great because of those lagoons, but when things were bad, the water was there for me yet again. Moving to L.B.I in my early teens, the ocean was as close and accessible as the lagoons had once been. As you could imagine, teenage years can be tough for a young girl…and they were! Just taking a quick walk down to the beach was enough to comfort me. Little did I know, the contentment I felt standing before the ocean, was just a glimpse of what was to come. I can honestly say, those were my first experiences with being truly present.
I didn’t know what it was, only that the ocean seemed to soothe my pain. It didn’t click yet that the quiet, reflective time was a huge part of it. However, the sound of the ocean, its sheer beauty, and underlying symbolism, acted as a vehicle for those moments of clarity. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for those nights with cool sand between my toes, the brilliant moon shining overhead, and the hypnotic waves rolling in. I guess that’s why I wasn’t just raised BY the bay, I was RAISED by the bay. I really wouldn’t have it any other way! So tell me, how has the water moved you?
Sheltered Cove Marina 