While scientists keep trying to discover whether or not life had aqueous beginnings, I'd like to propose a toast to the remarkable bond that we humans have with the beach in general. Every summer, people leave their week-lives behind and escape to the shores of the world. They pack up their cars and hit the road with one goal in mind: to reach water."The Beachcomber" is a vanilla bean sandy mess of cupcake with vanilla frosting, cookie crumble and a gummy critter atop. It's reminiscent of the sand pails we had as children, and the shark teeth we scoured the beaches for, only to find hours later that they were sold for half a dollar each at the town's general store. It's the warm skinned post-sun feeling of drinking a Dark and Stormy as the sun goes down. It's the fires on the beach, and the broadest display of stars that litter the sky overhead, with the Ursa Major begging to be identified in her clear glory.
So what is it inside us that so instinctively yearns for the roaring waves and the wild beach roses? Maybe it's the infinite awe of looking out and seeing nothing but sky and water that draws us in. Maybe it reminds us of where we came from, nine blissful months of floating before our feet hit the ground.
Or maybe we do come from the water somehow. By watching the tide ebb in and seep out, we can understand how truly spontaneous, how changeable and how fragile life really is... and how little we actually do know about it.