"Pebble Beach
Where we once met
a real seal and tried
to guess its name.
Where we'd found
that old pirate wood
the sea left behind.
And where Grandad was never quick enough
to eat the ice cream."
I am going to stick to a theme here for a couple of days with another grandparent story that I hope captures your interest. I don't know what your experience with rock collectors might encompass; this book reminds me of our many family walks that went very slowly as Bret found rock after interesting rock to quickly conceal in his pocket. I'm quite sure many of you will have had a somewhat similar experience.
The child who narrates this book is quick to describe many memorable trips made with his Grandad through the woods, past the train tracks, over the stile and onto Pebble Beach. It was their favorite place, and offered adventure at every turn. They met a seal, played games with old wood pieces, and did their best to avoid the seagulls eating their ice cream cones.
They visited places that few others knew, and each always picked up a pebble to take home with them. They always found exactly the one they needed. Their final stop on the way back was a boat called the Jolly Dancer, where they would sit to paint their pebbles and leave them on the boat's bottom for all to see. After Grandad's move to a new home, there is much to miss ... especially Grandad.
Mom comes through with a suggestion the two make a trip to Pebble Beach. The boy leads the way and happily guides his mother through the same experience he once shared with his beloved grandfather. Oh, and he remembers to pick a new pebble to take with him to Grandad for painting, and then adding to their collection on the Jolly Dancer.
"I look at each one
and remember the days.
Our days at Pebble Beach.
Just silly old Grandad and me."
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