This is my youngest daughter, Sarah, playing by herself on a pebble beach in West Vancouver.
We’re there visiting family. It’s early morning on a new day.
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My father had a habit of rising early and taking his coffee down to the beach, when we were
on holiday. I’ve taken up that habit myself. I lived for a time in Tofino, on the west coast of
Vancouver Island, renting a small cabin on Chesterman Beach. There I spent six months on
sabbatical, painting for a show with my dad and sister Caren. Coffee on the beach became a
ritual for me – and wound up as the title of one of my paintings.
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Sarah enjoys coming with me when she can. I’ll sit on a log or walk slowly, and she always
manages to entertain herself at the tide pools or with the flotsam from the water. As usual,
I have my camera at hand. It’s a Zen experience for me to watch the world wake up in this
fashion. I understand why my father enjoyed it so much.
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For Sarah and I, it’s a special, quality time. We just hang out. There’s a mutual understanding
that we don’t have to speak to or entertain each other. I think it’s also unusual for Sarah,
because it’s almost like being at the beach alone. Beach trips for the whole family tend to
be like scaling Everest, hauling the equipment, food, toys, people and heavy oxygen (kidding).
It’s quite a different experience from these morning visits. Here, there’s no pretense to her play,
no interacting with or entertaining anyone. She explores, experiences and enjoys, without
trying to have fun.
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When she gets old enough to drink coffee, I’ll bet Sarah will welcome the occasional new day
herself with the family tradition of coffee on the beach.
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Mark Heine