My favorite stretch of sand.

I have been there with many people. In many seasons. It is my favorite stretch of white sand and waves. My favorite rocks to climb. My favorite view opening up into the endless horizon of Atlantic Ocean. It is a special place to me, a rite of passage, a homecoming, a tourist attraction and a rendezvous point.

I have been there with her many times. In spite of the fact that she now lives where the Atlantic is tropical, I know this place is special for her as well. For most of the same reasons...and of course some of her own.

We were there with them - on perhaps the most fun day-after-New-Year's-Eve I've ever had. They have drifted into oblivion now. I have no idea where they are or what they are doing. But for that moment, that walk along the shore, slide across the ice, hide in the trees, flirt with the frigid waves moment... we five were all that there was. And in spite of the likelihood that I'll never see those three again, I will always be grateful for that day's exploration.

I was there with him. Once. In many ways The rememberances of that time are both the clearest and the cloudiest. It's hazy - times with him often are. And it wasn't quite the same. We skipped the beach, instead walking and climbing the rocks at the point to sit and look out at the waves while we spoke, and then sat in silence. A most comfortable silence. I think I made him look at the place a bit differently, as we drove out there on that winding road. I'm glad he has been there. I'm glad to have a memory of someone that special to me in that spot with so many good memories. When I miss him, as I do now, I often think of that day. It makes me smile - partly wistful, but happy just the same.