Summer Beach Days

by Angela Sanford

One of my favourite summer pastimes is spending a day at the beach, and Nova Scotia is blessed with some of the most beautiful shorelines of anywhere I have experienced. I hope to explore a few more beaches this summer, but my favourite will always be the one at the end of Point Road, close to where I grew up. It holds a lifetime of memories—of family, friends, laughter, and simpler days.

When I was young, the only way to reach the beach was by passing through Wes Hennigar's dooryard. More often than not, he would be outside to greet us as we made our way past his home.

Then the beach access made a shift and cut across the field just before Wes’ homestead. On warm summer days, the narrow road would be lined with cars on both sides, all belonging to people eager to cool off in the waves.

Today, access to the beach has changed, again. The road now detours around the edge of the neighbouring cornfield, taking visitors past the graveyard where many of my ancestors rest. Sadly, because of the actions of a disrespectful few, vehicle access has occasionally had to be closed. Thankfully, the walk has always been a beautiful one, and not a difficult journey when it has been necessary.

These days, when I find a quiet moment to visit the beach, I'm usually there alone. I admit I'm a little hesitant to venture too far into the water without company, but simply sitting on the sandy shore can be just as rewarding. If there happens to be a few fishers nearby waiting for their next catch, I might convince myself to take a swim—comforted by the thought that someone would be around if I happened to need a helping hand.

As a teenager, the beach was almost a daily destination, often shared with one of my closest cousins. It was our classroom for swimming lessons, with the temporary raft serving as the launching point for cannonballs, dives, and endless competitions. It was a place for sunbathing, laughter, and lingering until there wasn't a reason left to stay. I still laugh when I think of a friend climbing out of the water, shaking out his swim trunks, and watching a tiny minnow tumble onto the sand.

My earliest memories are even simpler. I remember holding my mother's hand as we jumped over the waves together, while I carefully avoided the eelgrass drifting beneath the surface. Truth be told, I'm still a little wary of eelgrass.

I remember campfires in the early mornings that warmed us before swimming lessons and bonfires late into the night that celebrated friendships and carefree summers. I remember the first time I drove myself to the beach—perhaps a little earlier than I legally allowed. It was a different time.

I miss the lively bustle of those hot summer afternoons when the beach was full of familiar faces, children playing, and voices carrying across the water. Yet I have come to appreciate what the beach offers me now: quiet moments to reflect, to soak up the sunshine, to walk its ever-changing shoreline, and to revisit, if only for a little while, the memories that will always make it feel like home.