The Japanese Current Flows through my veins- Father of undertow Feeder of the clam beds Grinding away The smooth edges Of Summer and Autumn
Stranger to Southern beaches The current creates Weather of it’s own And plays rough at it’s mildest.
I watch as the tow Sweeps away my sandy footing. How fast I can move Is how fast I survive.
Don’t turn your back On the Japanese Current Mercy isn’t floating in that tide And it will knock you down.
You can wade into the freezing waves But only a fool would try to swim. Nothing for Michael Phelps here Unless he excels with a shovel.
From little motor court cabins With linoleum floors And sand in the corners We’d pile out in the dark
At four A.M. low tides Slender shovels in our hands We braved the gales That would be banned in Maui Gifting us with glorious misery.
Wind whipping scarves and hair And sneaking through the jackets That didn’t really shield us From the sideways blowing rain That couldn’t wash away our smiles.
We’d stomp the sand and look for bubbles Dig for all we’re worth - plunge a hand Into the hole collapsing To ***** for the illusive razor clam - Treasure of the Northwest beaches.
Special treat for seafood lovers Fried, or ground or cooked in stew They seemed like sliced up innertubes to me My fun was in the finding and the digging The cleaning was my dad, the frying was my mom And not eating them was me.
LONG BEACH WASHINGTON
World’s longest unbroken sandy beach Twenty-eight miles of solid sand Bring your car, ride your horse or bike Cut christies in the hard packed sand. Splash along the edges of the waves Race with no red lights behind you.
Just watch the turning of the tide Or boys with jeeps will have to pull you out (Impossibly heroic idols of My childhood beach adventures.)
And yet sometimes the sun came out- Oh rarest gift from Mother Nature We wandered below the kite filled skies And sandy castle festivals.
We hid both sorrows and often and joys And sometime hanky panky Among the sea grass covered hillocks That roll like the boil of a bubbling kettle Between the sand and civilization.
It’s still there, almost unmarred By glitzy boardwalks and sunglass shacks Just as I remember it, what seems an eon later Familiar things at every turn Small thing tell me that my world abides And I’m not really home until I’m there. ljm
I see it beginning to change and become more commerical. Beard's Hollow, where we used to camp with our tent is now inaccessible from the road. Clams have been over dug and now there is a season and a limit. The little motor ourts have been replaced with multistory hotels, but the little town is virtually unchanged. I cannot go to Southwest Washington without a day at the beach.