Growing up near the ocean was like a gift that never grew old. I remember riding my bike to the beach and sitting along the shore, squinting to see the ships far out in the sea. I would stare for hours, my mind drifting like the waves. And I would write volumes of poetic verse…
I sit alone by the seashore
gazing out into the horizon
(greedily devouring this glorious view)
Rippling waters…The sun’s shimmering rays
a jewel-like reflection
on the ocean’s surface.
So much has changed since those days.
My father’s restaurant, a landmark on Miami Beach, was torn down. A high-rise stands in its place. I call these buildings “concrete monsters”. They have spread like wildfire over the old neighborhood, casting dark shadows over the beaches.
On South Beach, the music pulsates… beautiful people are everywhere. They rush expressionless from place to place, talking and texting on their cell phones, oblivious to their surroundings. Too busy to peel away the glitzy facades and perhaps discover a hidden treasure!
The Tsatske (knick-knack) store, a movie theater with a .25 matinee, the family owned food market, bakery and butcher, the elderly lined up for the early bird special, the sounds of Yiddish and Spanish, blending together like a woven tapestry.
The Miami Beach of yesteryear that I hold in my heart forever!