To write a letter, as a reminder to all those dog-walkers, was my intention. To remind them that at the end of this month, the trial period ends for this season.
But alas, as I sit here on this bench, a good six-plus feet from my closest fellow bench-sitter, looking out at both the ocean and our pier shutting out into it, I become somewhat overwhelmed. I think to myself – how very lucky I am!
Lucky to see these same dog-walkers, and all those others strolling past. Holding hands, chasing their young ones or stopping to buy a hotdog, or a bag of mini donuts.
I think how fortunate and lucky we all are, masks or no masks, to be living here on the Peninsula when there are so many other problems, along with this pandemic, in the world around us.
I see the shops and restaurants along Marine Drive, as busy at this time of year as I’ve seen them in the 25-plus years that I’ve lived down here along “the strip.”
I see people sitting out on heated decks, even separated by plexiglass barriers, enjoying themselves as I walk by.
I pass smiling, happy children strolling by with ice cream cones, and their parents with coffees in hand.
My reverie gets interrupted, as I turn around – away from the water, the pier, the couples strolling past – to my young grandson standing at the top of the small grassy knoll behind me. His small face alight in anticipation as he readies himself to kick his soccer ball, in who knows which direction, for me to get up and scramble after – and I just find myself feeling so very lucky.
And I think to myself, at times like these with all the worry and news of bubbles, COVID counts, vaccinations, etc. we hear over our TVs and radios, that we all need to just stop, take a deep breath and find pleasure in the “simple,” yet oddly enough, the small and “most important” things in life.
Barry Cameron, White Rock