I have a tradition of taking back a very small, uniquely colored pebble, or piece of glass from the beach every time I go there with a family member, or friend. A tangible sentiment from the sea. Unlike the scent of sea salt that clings to us, whispering of the ocean, which disappears rapidly, the pebbles stay, lingering memories of good times shared. The pebbles are incorporated into my garden in some way, sometimes perching on a brick wall, or sitting on top of a pot. Some I would like to sink into a cement stepping stone I started this tradition when I first moved to White Rock, each pebble meant that someone that I cared for visited me, and we went down to visit the beach. Although I no longer have every rock that I slipped into my pocket, some got washed away, some disappeared, the sentiments are still there. On the weekend my niece and I walked the breezy beach early in the morning. I mentioned how rare it was to find any beach glass anymore. But as we crunched our way through the smooth stones, and sand we found numerous pieces, each one a treasure for me. I am saving these up for the rainy, cold, winter days that will certainly come after summer is done. I will take these colorful, sanded memories in my hand, watch what little light we have make them sparkle, and remember the sound of our footsteps crunching on the sand our conversation floating like iridescent bubbles on a summer breeze. The winter days will fade away, and summer will return briefly to me once again.