Driving along the road, I start to smell the salt in the air and I know we are almost there. The cry of the seagulls breaks the silence after the car scares them from their wire perch. I gaze in awe as the trees fade away to show blazing blue skies, with the occasional cotton ball cloud. The smell gets stronger as it approaches low tide time and as we get closer to our destination. I remember seeing a postcard picture and I wonder if it will actually look like the picture.
The car finally pulls into a parking space, crunching to a stop on the gravel. My stomach is doing somersaults in anticipation! As I get out of the car, my grandfather is there to catch me, as I am bound to fall. The walk down the path feels like it takes forever and I am anxious that we are going to miss the sun’s last rays saying farewell. I tug on my grandfather’s hand to make him go faster, but he doesn’t acknowledge the urgency in my pull. I skip ahead trying to quicken his pace but he just saunters along, like the sun can wait to set until we get there.

Suddenly the lighthouse comes into view, and the sight makes my little jaw drop. The lighthouse is framed by brilliant hues of red, orange and pink. When my grandfather finally catches up we stand together hand in hand, tranquil and at peace. The breeze plays with my hair, making me shiver in delight. As we continue towards Bug Light, the building begins to loom over me. The rocks are slippery with spray from the sea, and I have to be careful not to slip. I hold his hand tighter the farther we walk out, not wanting to fall into the murky churning waters that lick the sides of the rocks.

We stand on the steps taking in our surroundings, the big iron door which is cold to the touch, the waves threatening to soak our shoes, and the sky slowly darkening to reveal stars twinkling in the distance. My grandfather points out the boat docks and I decide to go along. We step off the rocks and head down the parking lot to the boat launch. These boat docks are different than others, these move. Instead of having posts that are anchored into the ground to keep it still, these docks float on the water causing them to sway with the waves and each step we take.

Peering between the pallets, I see colonies of barnacles and algae growing where the water covers the wood. Green and white mix with the dark hue of wet wood. There are two rusty eyehooks that connect this pallet to the others. If you stand still, you can feel the boards pulsating with the shock from waves striking them, though this is hard to do. At first we just stand on the first pallet, getting used to the feel. Then my grandfather slowly guides me out to farther pallets, over deeper waters. At first I’m scared and a bit tipsy, but the farther out I go, the less afraid I am, and the more I am in awe. The sky is now a deep shade of blue with pinpricks of white light that hold many of my wishes and dreams. As we look out over the ocean, I pick a star and let it hold a piece of this memory through a wish.
Starlight, Star bright,
First star I see tonight,
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight
~Anonymous