My happy place - Fire Island

Everybody should have a happy place and time. Mine were the summers I spent growing up in fire Island. My parents started going out there in the 1950s, initially just camping on the beach with friends, and eventually building their own simple house with green tiled shingles and a sloping white trimmed roof. No vehicles there, all walking around on boardwalk. You could walk the width of the island in about five minutes in some locations. 

The foliage was scarce, it was mostly sand, but included beach plums, wild cherry trees, and unfortunately a fair amount of poison ivy. Getting through the summer without at least one outbreak of poison ivy, a stubbed toe, and a massive number of splinters was rare, but all part of the summer experience, and when you factor in the amazing ocean beaches, the beautiful weather, and a sense of really being away from the world, it was worth it all. 

Today when I meditate, I go to fire Island. I’m sitting on a staircase leading down to the beach and overlooking the water, and the dunes and beach which seem to extend out into infinity. So glad I had my summers out there.