My earliest childhood memory dates back to the age of four. We lived within wandering distance of the beach.

I wandered on down there one evening. Alone.

I have to imagine there was some parental panicking. I’ve been told my parents panicked. I’m sure they did. There may have even be some sort of aftermath for me in the form of punishment. My four-year-old brain didn’t record any of those details.

I do remember sitting on a pier in my little cotton dress with a bunch of grizzly old fishermen and learning how to catch crabs at sunset on a wide open beach. I remember the constant breeze twisting my hair, the water lapping at the pier and the waves washing across the sand as the tide came in, the salty moisture in the air clinging to my skin, the cry of hungry seagulls, and a sky filled with the colors of sailors’ delight.

There are no negative associations with this memory. No fear, frustration, anger, stress. It’s a very complicated and visceral memory. It’s one of my favorites.

Thought I’d share.