Feet up on the sand
The line in the song mentioned the feet up on the sand. This was not about the experience of going to the shore in the summer. Rather about someone being a refugee in a new land. My own origin story is somewhat similar. One of the branches of my family tree came here by boat. A normal thing given that I live on an island but there’s more. This was a whole family on their way to a new place and their ship just did not quite make it all the way. Wrecked I’m not sure with sand. Given that the ship was too damaged to continue the family moved in land and found a place to set up a small farm. A few acres at first and they probably had to clear the trees themselves. At that point in time there was no service you could phone to come in with a small bulldozer and set you up. You cleared the woods you dug up the ground and you made a firm. The farm is still there with new owners. When the family arrived they too had their feet up on the sand. It was just before the summer so the water would have been fairly warm. Nobody died from it. And here I am more than 200 years later within walking distance of that same beach and that same farm. I really wonder what it was like at the start. Where do you get your tools? Do you find someone from down the road to come in and give you a helping hand? I probably will never have all the answers to my questions. There is no one from that time. Still alive. Written records are rare. I can only assume that the family was simply happy to be alive. And from the stem to stay here going forward means that they found this to be a comfortable land. Much like me.
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