One Thousand Shells and a Million Ocean Waves

I've been to the ocean twice in my life, once when I was too little to remember and once this last summer. When I was too little to remember (about 5 or 6), we went to the ocean to collect the final clue at the end of a treasure hunt for real buried treasure that my aunt had hidden in a box beneath the sand. I think she created all the little golden trinkets within the box, and I wonder now where they have gotten to, because in our family, we never throw things out.

I don't remember very much about the ocean other than the a snippet of the crazily sharp cliff rocks, a glimpse of the expansive ocean, and a large dead crab that convinced my 6 year old self that I never wanted to set foot in that monster-ridden water. About four years ago, I decided I wanted to go back, mostly because I'd forgotten what it was like, and had heard it was fabulous. 'Going to the Ocean' was something I put on my 'to do list'. The one most of us write at some point in our lives listing the things we want to accomplish before we die, unless we only have one thing on that list which is: to write that aforementioned list.

There are about 35 things I've written on that list, and some have been able to be crossed off. It's one of the most exciting experiences to go over that list and pre-live those experiences, and cross off others. But I find that the more I go over my list, the more I add to it, as though each thing I've done previously adds two items to the list, and at the rate I'm at... well, I will never finish. I've acquired a driver's license, but now I've added to the list that I want to go on a spontaneous road trip, and that I want to travel to Egypt. I've gone skiing, but now I want to go snowboarding, and skydiving. I've been accross Canada, but now I want to go to Peru and to Austrailia. And more than dreaming, I hope these goals will come true. Interesting though isn't it, how the more we do in life, the more we want to do. Like going to the Ocean.

Although I can now officially cross it off of my 'to do' list, I feel the need to put 'Going to the Ocean' on the 'Things I should do again sometime' list. Last summer at the ocean was spectacular. When we first got to the beach, I noticed a shell on the ground and thought 'This is beautiful! Unique! I should keep this!' As we continued down the path to the beach, more and more of these little shells lay scattered about our feet. I eagerly picked up shell after shell. Once my feet touched the sand though, reality stole me from my 'lucky me' mindset as my eyes rested on the thousands of little black shells that littered the beach like unwanted waste. I dropped my thoughtful collection and only picked up the most significant, unique and precious ones to take back with me as tokens of remembrance... including a couple sand dollars, random bubble seaweed, and of course, some small dead crabs. Apparently I couldn't get around that lovely... dead... smelly... piece of the experience, so I decided to take some home with me.

The waves, the starfish; the driftwood, the sand... Another expereince to check off my list. And now I've added to my list again. To travel to more beaches around the world, and to dance on the beach as the sun goes down. My list will never stop growing, for as each chapter of life's adventure draws to a close, somewhere two more chapters have just begun.