My Watermark is Port Burwell Beach at Lake Erie, Ontario.

When I was young at the beach, the waves went over my head as I wandered out farther. Clenching onto my mom and dad’s arms as the massive waves approached me. I remember having the beach to ourselves even as it became darker. It was hot and humid and sticky but I still had a giant smile on my face. I played in the water until my body would ache from hours of jumping and running and swimming.

I remember sitting in the trunk of my car with my cousins until we arrived. My toes would sink in the hot sand burning my feet. Then I rushed to the water, jumping in although it was cold. I was so excited and happy and amazed by the water. I remember jumping the waves with my cousins and creating a game show out of it. I would walk by the edge of the water hunting for seashells to decorate my sand castles with. I would lay in the sun until my back and shoulders were bright red.

When I was young at the beach, I remember having matching swimsuits with my cousin. The beach was crowded with what had felt like thousands of people. I would race my cousins into the cold, cold water. I remember my uncle helping me surf the biggest waves when my dad was with my brother. I would glide all the way to shore. I did handstands and flips and somersaults under the clear water. Jumping with excitement as big waves came near.

As the day ended and it was dark out, I laid on my towel watching the bright stars appear in the sky. It amazed me so much. I would count as many as possible but I knew it was impossible to count them all.. I remember that I would name them all with my cousin. We had the most ridiculous names. Having fun, spending time with my family and going to the beach was good enough for me.