A World Apart

The beaches of Bodega Bay, populated by seagulls and seaweed, were the only beaches I knew in the early years of my life. The coarse, rocky sand was scattered with giant seaweed and starfish washed up by the tide. The air smelled of salt and the crisp breeze was forever present. Going to the beach without sweats and a sweatshirt was unheard of and the icy water was just cold enough to make my feet ache. Activities like Frisbee and wiffle ball were cut short by the unpredictable winds. Even in the summer, people were hesitant to approach the frigid water.
I remember climbing out on the jetties as a little girl, terrified of the icy waves lapping against the rocks beneath me. Each splash of water was like the prick of a dull needle against my legs. The jetties were scattered with seaweed and starfish and crabs and sea urchins and unknown plants. I could have explored those giant rocks for days had the promise of warmth not lured me back to shore.
It was not until I was fifteen years old that I was introduced to a whole new world of beaches: a world of smooth sand, warm water, and no bone-chilling breeze. This is the world of Avila beach.
A small river curves along the beach, spilling into the vast blue ocean, the perfect spot for young children to play. The water is only a foot deep and the current is far from strong. Kids of all ages are drawn to the river. They run. They play. They laugh.
The constant sound of waves washing to the shore is instantly calming, and the fiery sun warms the sand beneath my feet. Avila- a beach with swings and slides, warmth and waves, rivers and restaurants- is filled with endless activities. The warm water is so inviting, begging me dip my feet in, and the rocks are smooth, their coarseness worn away by the perpetual motion of the waves.
As I walked down the beach, I was amazed by how clean it was. Not a speck of trash littered the strip of sidewalk just past the sand. Every restaurant had outside seating with a perfect view of the ocean and no pesky seagulls lingering for scraps of food left behind. All I could think about was how impossible it would be to recreate this scene back home in Bodega.
At the center of the beach is a wooden pier, about 200 feet long and fifteen feet wide. Stone benches are scattered along the edge, looking over the mysterious world of discoveries that is the Pacific Ocean. As I walked farther out on the pier, I noticed how the water became bluer the deeper it got. Without the constant swirling of sand clouding the water, I began to see just how expansive the ocean truly is, and I realized that there is a great deal of daily activity occurring beneath the surface of the ocean that we have yet to understand.
Avila’s water is warm and Bodega’s is teeth-chattering cold; Avila’s sand is as smooth as butter and Bodega’s is coarse and rocky; Avila’s waves lap gently and Bodega’s crash violently; Avila’s air smells fresh and Bodega’s smells of seaweed. They are two beaches that could not be more different. Both lie on the western coast that is California, yet their differences make them seem as they are a world apart. Bodega is my past, littered with seaweed and memories, and Avila is my future, wide open and full of opportunities.
Two beaches: both special, yet different in so many ways. One is dark and cold and the other is bright and warm. One holds memories of the past and one brings promises of the future. Despite how opposite they may be, both of these places have made a significant mark in my life. Each beach represents a different side of me, one conservative and sheltered, the other full of excitement and joy.
Just like the song once said, “Make new friends, but keep the old. One is silver and the other’s gold.” I will always cherish the times, past, present, and future, spent at the beaches of Bodega, while enjoying the memories to come at Avila beach as well. One may be silver, and one may be gold, but both possess great value that cannot be replaced.

-Karinne