A local woman vanishes under somewhat suspicious circumstances a few years ago. There are a few persons of interest, but nothing can be figured out. So the authorities dig. In the beach. Once quite a while ago, another time last year, and now again. Right now. A block and a half from my home, in the place that I usually enter the beach area to take a walk on the beach. In the place that I have sat and read and watched the people and the waves, and watched sunsets. Last week there were small earth moving equipment moving sand into huge piles, baring deeper and deeper into the depths of the sand. The unruly, out of control, slipping sand. Two days of that resulted in nothing so it has been returned to a normal sandy beach in that area. I just returned home from a walk and noticed they are back digging again. Even closer to the exact spot that I actually have sat on many occasions. One time a few days ago I stood and gawked with all the others watching. I want to look away but I cannot. I don't want to see if they find anything. It makes me feel sad and uncomfortable inside. It could bring closure to those near and dear. For me it will not be closure. For me it is the beginning of a never ending feeling that my beach, my space, the place I go for solace and peace, is possibly not only what I had thought it was. I feel robbed in some way. Even the suggestion that something sinister has occurred on this beach is an unpleasant and worrisome thought. My heart aches for the vanished person. And my heart aches for the serenity I have lost. The comfort and peace I have had walking the beach at dusk or dawn, with only a few others seeking the same. If nothing is found, I'll still remember the images of digging. And I'll feel sorry that I walked over that very sand that is now the object of interest for sinister reasons. They've widened that taped off area further today. The digging continues.
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