The Big Catch

Ever since we moved to Fort Bragg, I’ve wanted to walk down to Hare Creek Beach. I drive past it nearly every day, and can see a tiny trail along the creek as I cross the bridge over it on Highway One. There is also a permanent circular bench that looks quaint from a distance.

Today I finally made the short trek. I parked in a lot where it appeared that someone was living in their car. Socks and shoes were thrown about the pavement and a towel hung across the vehicle’s window for privacy. There was even a tomato slice dried on the asphalt. Not the most auspicious start.

I had to cross a field that was strewn with garbage. Nearing the creek, I saw a bottle of ketchup and a jar of relish sitting atop a concrete post. As I approached the circular bench, plastic bags littered the seat, filled with who-knows-what. Is someone going jump out of the bushes and attack me? Yet I continued on.

The trail became narrower and more closed in from every direction, including overhead, so it became quite dark. Should I turn back?

That’s when I saw a chain link fence covered with colorfully painted fish. It appeared to be a community project done by a school group or some such entity. My trepidation swam away as I noted the fun, imaginative patterns on the wooden forms.

Before I knew it, I was out on the open beach with families laughing, children playing and dogs prancing about. Clumps of wildflowers grew in the sand and a shamrock seemed to wink at me from the center of a fallen log. I’m glad I didn’t turn back. After all, it’s always darkest before the dawn.

All photos © Sondra Sula.