As a young child, I loved to sit on the beach and watch the waves come in. I would sit far enough back so the water wouldn’t get me wet. The waves would break right on the edge of the sand, and the water and foam would rush towards me and stop just short of my feet.
If I got there early enough, I could watch the “Coast Guard” clean up the beach. The first truck, about the size of a pick-up would come down the beach, the men would jump out and pick up whatever washed in on high tide – logs, big gobs of seaweed, a fish or two, clam shells. The next truck had a big vacuum cleaner on it. It would pick up all the small stuff, but no sand. The third and last truck had about seven or eight guys in or on it. They had rakes. What a beautiful job they did. All the rake marks going the same way. Then they would dump in the truck and move down the beach. They seemed so happy. When I got ready to leave, I looked down the beach and they were just dots on the sand. I thought, “See you tomorrow.”