Rock On.

Up until now, when I thought of the beach, I thought of warm, tropical breezes, crystal blue water and white sand that you can sink your toes into.

The beach where we are staying in Maine is a far cry from warm, tropical and there is certainly a lack of white sand. But it is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen.

Our little slice of heaven, otherwise known as Crockett's Beach, is a rock-strewn stretch.

It is difficult to navigate the rocks, as some are wedged in really tight, and others teeter at the slightest hint of weight. Sensible shoes are a must when navigating the rocks, as I learned the day I hit the beach in a pair of Birkenstock garden clogs. I ended up sitting on a picnic table and watching the waves instead of walking.

As a child, one of my favorite activities was to sit atop a pile of rocks and look for agates and other treasures. Every rock is different, and some are just exquisite. It's hard not to stuff your pockets with a load of special rocks.

I'm transported back in time when I sit on the beach here, eyeing all the magnificent rocks the waves have forced to the shore. Already, the windowsills in our beach bungalow are lined with special rocks we've found. There are literally millions of rocks covering the beach, but the ones in our windows have "made the cut." They were deemed special enough to haul home and put on display.

There's a legend here that if you find a "lucky rock," you will return to that beach some day. I've been on a concentrated quest to find rocks with a circle that goes all the way around it--that's what determines if it's a lucky rock. They are pretty rare, but Jonni and I have been finding some.

Even more rare is sea glass. It's just broken glass that is tumbled and smoothed by the sea then spit out on the shore. Our third roomie, Brownie, has been collecting sea glass on her visits to Maine for years. She keeps them in little glasses on her kitchen windowsill as a reminder of her days here. I am happy that I have been able to contribute to her collection. Finding a piece of seaglass is like finding a nugget of gold!

In the late afternoons, for about an hour, the tide goes out, and we can actually walk on sand. It's wet, gray sand, but much easier to walk on than the rocks. The one who loves it the very most is Cole, Jonni's dog. Amazingly, Cole can run on the rocks with great ease--we think he may be part mountain goat. But when he hits the sand, he's really off and running!

No matter what time of day, tide in or tide out, the beach is always a good place to sit, relax and just...be. That's something that's hard to do in our everyday lives. When at home, there's always the pull to do something--put in a load of clothes, straighten up the house, pay some bills. But when you're on a beach, simply listening to the rhythmic breaking of the waves and hearing the ocassional sea gull squawk overhead, everything else is forgotten, and it's just so much easier to relax and be in the moment.

Looking out at sea, with the horizon that seems forever away, it's easier to contemplate the vastness of the universe that God created. It also makes me realize that I'm just a very small part of it all. In other words, I am reminded that it's not all about me, which in turn makes my problems seem suddenly much smaller and insignificant.

I want to be like the rocks on the beach. Sturdy and strong, yet beautiful and unique among the millions of rocks out there. I want to be like a lucky rock to those I love, so that they'll want to come back to me time and time again.

So, today is a rainy, blustery day in Maine. Wind gusts up to 40 miles per hour. Brownie says it's like a mini-nor'easter. For me, that means a great day to cozy up by the fireplace and write.

Rock on!

Blessings to all who read this!
Susan