ARCHIVES

  

                                                          

   I have a file in my mind, known only to me, called Archives.  It is a place I store vivid memories and images that are etched there forever.  All are pleasant and all bring a smile to my face.  Last Sunday a new image was added to the file.

     I was down in the dumps after my favorite team had lost the night before, I know it’s just a game, but what can I say?  I was preparing to spend the day watching football on TV which is how I deal with putting a tough loss behind me.  Kind of like my way of treating a sort of hangover.  Out of the blue, my daughter Romy calls.  She had her favorite Starbuck’s coffee in hand and was preparing for a walk along the beach.  It was one of those spectacular mornings and did I want to join her.

     As I drove down to Crystal Cove I could see why she called.  It was one of those see-forever days, not a cloud in the sky, you could seemingly reach out and touch Catalina Island and a stiff breeze pushed ashore the smell of sea weed and salt water.  All things I love, which Romy knows, hence the phone call. 

     We walked through the tunnel that goes underneath Pacific Coast Highway to the beach.  It was cold by California standards, about 50 degrees with a stout 25 knot wind making it hood-up sweatshirt, hands stuffed in the pockets weather.  We contemplated a walk along the beach but decided we needed some nourishment first. 

     High up on a bluff overlooking this beautiful stretch of shoreline is a Ruby’s.  Those that have driven this stretch of highway between Newport Beach and Laguna Beach know this as the Date Shack.  A must stop for many years, the Date Shack ceased operations but Ruby’s stepped in, kept the quaint shack as close to original as possible and most importantly, kept the date shakes.

     Romy and I climbed the stairs up the hill, ordered our traditional date shakes and split a turkey sandwich on squaw bread.  As we ate our lunch we looked down on the beach and saw a flock of sea gulls sitting on the sand, taking a break from the relentless wind.  Romy decided to keep a half a slice of the bread to feed the sea gulls when we went on our walk. 

     Returning to the beach we walked up the coast toward the sea gulls.  When we got close Romy broke off a small piece of the bread and threw it toward them.  The entire flock of about 15 birds rose in unison and began hovering just downwind from us.  The wind was strong enough that they could almost remain motionless with their wings outstretched, poised in the air waiting for Romy to throw them a piece of bread. 

     As she heaved the pieces of bread skyward the sea gulls would swoop and dive to be the lucky bird.  Romy, facing her birds a scant few feet above her, blond hair blowing in the wind,  had the biggest smile on her face and was giggling like the little girl fathers always remember their daughters being. 

     We ran out of bread, the sea gulls slowly dispersed and we continued our walk.  Not many words were said and I’m not sure Romy realized I had a new entry for my Archives file.  We walked until we were too cold to continue, returned to our cars and said good bye.