Time

I needed to see how much time had passed – to have a tangible feel of the distance traveled. Once I left here it was as if time was placed on hold – as if here ceased to exist while there came alive – as though I was the catalyst that brought things to life. I came back thinking, expecting to feel the passage that I had missed but instead my illusion of frozen time has only been intensified. Of course there has been the occasional surprise of a new building or closed shop, but nothing substantial enough to break the bubble of my illusion. In hopes of destroying this illusion, I drove myself to wash away beach. The beach is so named for its most noticeable quality – it’s washing away and at no slow pace. This process began in 1890 and in these 100 odd years over 3 miles of land has been claimed by the waves, taking with it a lighthouse, a school, and countless homes – the remains of which can be seen in the forms of rusted pipes reaching up out of the surf, and odd shapes of cement – hollow reminders of homes. The sea seems to be long and flat – breaking twice – once a long ways out and again at the edge of shore – creating soft and gentle caressing waves. The sea seems much to gentle to cause such destruction, but it too is only an illusion.

Two years prior I would have driven to the end of the road, passing between a friend’s house and garage which sat on the edge of the beach. I would park secluded between two trees on the very edge of the beach and walk down the short cliff. When I arrived the road was blocked off and I was forced to park at the junction. As I began to climb down to the beach I could see why. Not only was the garage gone, but so was most of the road. My friend’s house now sits on the edge of the cliff. The beach was completely unrecognizable. Trees that had fallen lay scattered on the beach along with broken pieces of homes and other possessions now nothing more than litter. I felt like I was coming there for the first time. Walking along I found what must have been the foundation of a round building and some sort of metal structure that looks like the cab of a backhoe. The beach holds an eerie stillness and a sense of foreboding. I’m not sure that this trip accomplished what I had set out to do, but it certainly left me with the feeling of the imminent nature of change and the ever present shadow of the past.