A Tale from a Deserted Beach
by Rob Fergusson, June 2006

Our Story

I climbed a sandy path between two dunes, suddenly catching a glimpse of the crashing surf, framed by the sea oat-covered dunes on either side of me. As that wide, empty North Carolina beach came fully into view, I felt that big sigh I always feel. This is my retreat, where I recharge my emotional reserves.

I was glad the beach was empty of other people. I walked toward the end of the island where the beachfront houses end and are replaced with the natural dunes of a protected area for nesting sea turtles. I looked forward to being surrounded by just the natural beauty of the surf, the beach, the dunes, and the shallow channel at the island's end.

I'd walked this beach before, but now saw something new. At the edge of the dunes was a stubby little rusty mailbox that apparently had washed up in a storm, still attached to its post. Someone had rescued the mailbox, dug a posthole and erected it in this beautiful, remote spot. It was an unexpected visual joke.

I walked to it and opened the mailbox to find that this was more than a bit of humor. Someone had placed a blank book and several pens in the mailbox. I withdrew the book and sat down. I leafed through its pages and found it almost filled with the messages of passersby.

I read at random. There was a poem by a woman who simply loved the sea. It was followed by a joyous exclamation of love from newlyweds spending their honeymoon at that beach. A man had come to commune with his dead father who had always loved that beach. There were bittersweet reflections of a woman who had just lost her marriage and felt so alone on that beach, looking for strength. There was a silly note from a young teen, trying to be interesting through tough, obscene talk. Dozens of pages were there, reflecting dozens of stories and dozens of hearts

I had started my walk glad the beach was empty of people, and now as I sat and read I was overwhelmed with a sense of wanting to connect with someone. What changed? I think that never seeing into the hearts of those I pass everyday left me forgetting how much I share with those other hearts - the hearts passing by just a few feet away as I walk.

I think this affirms to me the healing power of placing yourself in an outreach group or support group in difficult times, like in separation or divorce. There you can feel a connection, not just to other hearts, but to hearts specifically facing your same trials.

Wishing you vision, recovery and stability;
Rob