Yesterday we went to Secret Beach – a teensy quarter-mile hike and rock scramble down to a secluded beach. The tide was high and the kids screamed with glee at the thrill of standing close to the shore and running back as soon as a wave brought the sea pounding towards them.
Up close, the sea was so violent. I felt sure it would sweep one of them away.
Then later, by myself, on a run along the cliffs overlooking the same coast, I could see waves rolling in, the striations of the foam. But from this distance, the sea looked more like a big lake. No more pounding waves that exploded against the rock in a water fireworks show.
Is that life? Are there always just multiple perspectives of the same thing? Or are there high and low tides that swap as frequently as the ocean’s…