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  • Writer's pictureKaren Hunnicutt-Meyer



Standing on the rocks at Secret Beach in Oregon at night is like stepping into a cosmic embrace where the rhythmic symphony of crashing waves and the luminous dance of stars weave a tapestry of tranquility. As the ocean whispers its ancient tales and the cool night air caresses the senses, a profound connection with the vastness of the sea unfolds. The waves, cloaked in darkness yet illuminated by the ethereal glow of the moon, become a hypnotic force that draws you closer to the heart of the universe.

In this sacred solitude, memories of my dad, a man whose soul resonated with the sea, come flooding back. His love for the ocean was a timeless bond, and standing on these rugged shores, I feel an ineffable link to the legacy he left behind. The memories of shared moments by the water, where he reveled in the beauty of the sea, now merge with the rhythmic waves beneath my feet. It's as if the ocean itself carries echoes of his laughter and tales of seafaring adventures, creating a bridge between the tangible present and the intangible realm of cherished recollections.

The rocks beneath me, worn smooth by the eternal caress of the tides, cradle the weight of not just my physical presence but also the emotional weight of nostalgia. The profound connection with the ocean on this hidden beach becomes a conduit for reminiscing about my dad's tales of sailing into the horizon and finding solace in the vastness of the sea. In the quietude of the night, I become one with the timeless expanse of the ocean, and in doing so, I carry forward the legacy of my dad's love for the sea into the depths of my own soul. Standing on the rocks at Secret Beach is more than a moment in time; it's a poignant communion with the eternal ebb and flow of memories that anchor us to the ones we hold dear.

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