Ha'Penny Bay

On the quiet south shore, Haypenny Bay is the stretch of beach closest to my house and visible from our residence. No commercial dwellings exist on the public westward side of the bay and only one residence is visible through the tall sea grape trees.
Weekdays the beach lies quietly awaiting the weekend’s excitement. Saturdays and Sunday afternoons local families gather to picnic, swim and sun. Walk west away from the splashing children gathered in the sandy bottomed cove nearest to the makeshift car park and Haypenny Bay extends as about a mile of quiet windswept path.

My favorite spot lies midway down the beach near a promontory that serves as my walker’s half way mark. At this outcrop, a few hundred yards toward the horizon lies a ring of reefs. Rather than the typically horizontal roll, waves crash over these undersea barriers at odd angles. The waters careen, stop short, and thrust upwards in brief waterspouts and sideways in great splatters. I imagine a great school of fish diving and rising and chasing each other’s tails.

Last week in a hurried pace, busy with checklists and errands, I trudged down the beach my dog in tow for his obligatory exercising. When I reach the reefs, out of habit, I paused to study them and felt my spirits rise. It seems we’re trying to be diligent, be dutiful, be successful, be on top and ahead of the game. . .Why is it so difficult to just be?