03/05/2022
Take a Beat with Us
April was a month of rest for our little family, share the journey with us.
Refuge
In April, I resumed my role as assistant shark’s tooth hunter. This mostly means I sit on the beaches of Venice and Englewood reading, napping, meditating and writing while Justice sifts his way up and down the coast, searching for fossils.
I’ll dip in and out of his hunt. The gentle roll of the waves has been luring me into the ocean since I was a child. My Dad would grin at me every summer and remind me “you’re a water baby, Chels.”
Beach days in our family were an escapade. We’d often spend a week or two of the school holidays with Mum’s best friend’s family and their three kids. The four adults would wrangle the seven of us kids into rashies, sunscreen and bathers before letting us out free-range at Point Roadknight beach. My friend Georgina and I would take this as an opportunity to bodysurf, talk about our crushes and float with the tide. I have distinct memories of our mothers waving at us to come back in for vegemite sandwiches or to warn us we’d swam out too far.
We’d pile into Mum’s Multivan at the end of a beach day and dozily watch the Anglesea coastline disappear from view, turning into shady streets lined with kombi vans and beach houses. I’d be sun-soaked, salty haired and sleepy, knowing I’d be feeling the waves again that night when nodding off to sleep.
Nowadays beach days look a little different, my intention is always to be helpful in Justice’s quest for shark’s teeth and stingray plates. I’ll crouch next to him in the shallows, jiggling his homemade sifter dutifully only to get distracted by iridescent pieces of abalone. After a couple more sifts I’ll identify a couple of teeth or some petrified wood, mindful that I’m losing interest.
I’ll busy myself with looking out for bull sharks (my biggest fear at Florida beaches). At this point, I’m restless and ultimately ready to surrender to the ocean. I’ll dive under the next wave and float for a while.
I’ll notice how much closer the sun feels here compared to Victoria, listening to the muffled crunching sounds of Justice and his fellow sifters behind me. I’ll feel the passing clouds cool my skin while I drift, aware of the fishermen who’ve cast lines on my distant left.
While beach days were a summertime luxury as a kid and a sort of rite of passage in my late teens in asserting my independence, they have since become a safe haven these last few years. When we were struggling financially, they were a frugal-friendly option for a day out. When we couldn’t agree on an activity to do with friends, it was a neutral choice. When we had a difficult week, the beach offered respite.
In many ways, the beach has always offered me refuge.
This last month, I faced some difficulties, and so once again I found myself at the beach. The shores are dotted with fellow supportive spouses of shark’s tooth hunters. They fill colourful chairs and sit under umbrellas, peacefully reading their books, taking naps and munching on snacks. Throughout the rocky shoreline bobble sifters, searching for fossilized treasures. Along the horizon pods of dolphins surface from the deep blue water. Dragonflies dart overhead while children chatter along the boardwalk behind the dunes.
It’s difficult for me to carry any of my worries to the beach. I like to think because I’m attuned to the tides, but mostly I think it may have something to do with my phone getting bugger all reception. I find it gives me no choice but to be in the present.
This month, I encourage you to find your own refuge. A place that fills you with peace in the present.
A little something to keep you going in your search.
Food For Thought
"A good girl is not an ambitious person."
— Jane Fonda
"Revolution begins in the muscles."
— Thomas Jefferson
"Life is really just a lesson in finding balance between fear and courage."
— Cara E. Yar Khan
Another little something to hold close if it brings you comfort.