While on a trip to Wales in 2009 my daughter and I met a local couple who told us that we absolutely had to drive to the coast to have a day at the beach. Heads filled with images of the English seaside - deckchairs, 99s, fish and chips, paddling in the frigid waters, we thought we were in for a stellar day!   When we got out the car, what struck me was the silence.  Barely another car to be seen, not  an ice cream van in sight.  We followed the path towards the water, and then there in front of us was the beach.  We’ve been pretty spoiled by visiting some pretty amazing beaches in our time, and this was no beach.  It was a giant rock garden!  Sophie was overjoyed.  Some of my favorite photos of her were taken that day.  She was in the cardigan that Granny made, the one with Peter Rabbit buttons. She had crocs on her feet, which likely made scrambling over the stones even more fun!  We collected three stones that day:  A Daddy stone, a Mummy stone, and a Sophie stone.  They stayed in the back of our car for a long time before we finally gave them a place in our little garden on Campana Road.  When we moved to Rye, they were placed just as carefully as the china into a box that would head across the Atlantic.  Once we unpacked all our belongings, these three little treasures were given pride of place in their new garden.  I look at them often, remembering a wonderful day in Wales, and I’m reminded about the way a child’s mind can turn a rocky beach into a thing of true beauty.

– Ann

Relationship:  Im/migrant Im/migrant