Many times I have sat on the grey, sandy beach in front of my grandparentÂ’s house, looking at the tall mountains that fence the bay as the seawater glistened and the waves calmingly collided against the uneven shore. Taking in the breathtaking scenery and filling my soul with the peace that the beauty and quiet brings, has always created a deep love for this place in me. I have often thought about how I, as a child, explored this place with my brother and cousins, running up and down the seashore looking for washed-up treasures. Smooth-coloured glass, eye-catching shells, and rocks with glittering specks of quartz were what made up our bounty. When the tide would go out, we would search under the seaweed and large rocks, which only hours before were beneath the water, to find crabs and starfish. After scooping them up in an old salt beef bucket and sharing with pride to our family members our discoveries, we gently put them back in their homes to find another time. We would wade through the tepid water up to our shins and if we were brave, sometimes up to our waists. When I think of it now, I have never stopped doing these things, I still get filled with the enjoyment it brings. When evening came with the moon rising over the hills on the other side of the bay casting a yellow glow over the water, we would have an enormous bonfire. We would burn driftwood we collected, scraps Pop had around, and rejoice in the large flames that reached out to the night sky. After roasting marshmallows, wieners, all the while laughing and singing songs, we would go to bed tired and fully content. As I have gotten older I have become more aware of my familyÂ’s history on that beach. Through pictures and stories I came to find that not only have I enjoyed this captivating place but also a long line of relatives, travelling back to the 1800s. It all started with my great-great grandfather who had moved to this area from Greens Pond and settled here with his wife to raise his family. My great grandfather was born here and lived in a house right on this beach with his wife and children, one of which was my grandfather, who also was born here and grew up on this shore. Not to mention great uncles and aunts with their families living a few feet away. To add more roots to this area, my grandmother was also born in this community as was her mother and father. Though my mother didnÂ’t live here, she spent a lot of weekends and summers on this beach. Where my great-grandfather's house previously stood, my Pop built a summer cabin, which then was expanded into a home for him and my grandma after he retired. For five generations my family has congregated here, enjoying this beautiful spot. When I think about this, it fills me with great pride and wonder knowing that I share the same attachment to this place with many, many others. Sitting on the seashore, I now watch my children playing on the beach. Smiling and giggling, my son throws rocks and seaweed into the oncoming tide. My daughter squishes the sand between her tiny fingers. They are now the sixth generation to be a part of this magnificent privilege. They play where their great-great grandfather walked. They wade in the water where their great grandfather waded as a child. They sit by fires where their grandmother sat growing up and they turn over the same rocks their mother turned over when the tide was out to uncover the oceanÂ’s treasures.   Submitted By: Tracy Reid