“Imprinted in our hearts is the exact moment we fell in love with the beach.” Judith Frenette
Count the waves…’
It was the summer before my 5th birthday the first time I came to the beach in Gulf Shores, AL . Those were the days before condominiums. The cottages we stayed in were at HWY 59 and Ft Morgan Rd., I remember them as Calloway Cottages. Today the cottages are gone and now a shopping center stands there.
The trees I played under are still there, standing in a grove near the highways. This playground of trees is where I first discovered the bother of sand spurs sticking in your feet, and the challenges of removing and disposing of them! This welcoming green area is now a part of the 5.6 mile Ft Morgan Rd Trail, a biking and walking trail that runs through the trees on the north side of Ft Morgan Rd.
In later years we would stay just a few blocks from the beach at cabins called ‘The Sand Dollar’
‘The waves hug your feet…’
Step in. The first stop is the beach. The main public beach had few distractions from nature. At the beach there was only the A&W root beer stand and a former, and perhaps the original, version of ‘The Hangout’. What it did have was the rolling gulf and the largest sand box I had ever seen. Prior to this trip I had only been to the lake and the river so the only thing I was missing across that gulf- where are the trees on the other side of the water?
‘Savor the delicate taste of fresh seafood…’
Tradition became the first place to go was a morning on the beach and then to the cottage for unpacking. Next up was the fish market, fresh shrimp and crab for a hot seafood casserole my mother enjoyed making. I liked going there, I thought the smell of fresh fish both strange and wonderful. Was that Calloway fish market?
‘The familiar feel of gritty sand …’
Sand buckets full, sand castles built and destroyed. It was time for the big hole. Digging a hole deep enough to bury my Daddy took the help of all the adults we could engage. Digging and crawling in the sand to assure he was in up to his neck in the cool and gritty sand. Someone remembers to form that set of coconuts from sand onto his chest.
‘Off the beach…’
Souvenir City was always a stop and a place to buy books about the seashore, and seashells. Buying sand dollars to take home as souvenirs. And the anticipation of watching their hermit crabs and hoping this would be the year you could buy one. Alas, never! But every trip I make I still return to see them.
‘The gulf pounding as it rolls into shore, slamming the beach and the salty taste of the gulf water…a seagull calls’
More than sixty years later I still return often. I return when I need to recharge in the sun, in the salty air, and in the sand. I return to recharge in this, the first place I called my home away from home. This place where I first fell in love with the beach. This place where I still cherish making new memories each year.
‘Count the waves…count the memories’
Wishing You Salty Kisses, Sandy Hugs & Shells to Carry In Your Pockets.
Be Well. Stay Safe. Much Love.
Story & Photos: © 2020 Molly Cox
