The steady beat of waves upon the shore.
The sweet salty smell of the ocean
Lost treasures wash up onto the beach
everything to make a house.
The aromas of steaks, chicken, and fish
waft from the BBQ
Us, isolated from everybody else
cooking hot dogs on a saltwater soaked wood grill
with driftwood for house and fuel.
This is paradise.
-Jake Colman 2001-
The Infinite Fountain of Love and Loss flows unceasingly into the pool of memory and sorrow. I created this blog in response to the most dreadful tragedy every parent fears, the death of a child, our 24 year old son, Jake. We are now on an unimagined journey along this road of grief and recovery. If you can find some comfort within these pages, than I will have succeeded in some small measure.
So that would have been when Jake and the others were still P. S. #1 pups… You two built quite the beach shack. Well done, on every level, my friend.
Yes one of the poems in his PS #1 book. It was written about this very hut. We built them for years and years. It started as a simple two wall shelter from the wind, and over the years evolved into a true Tiki Hut. Part of the rules of its construction were that we could only use found materials, driftwood, strips of bark for lashing, palm fronds for the roof and walls. We would build it during the first few days each year, and enjoy it for the time we were there. Such sweet memories, it was truly paradise.
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