Miniature Worlds of Summer: A Reflection

The time I remember feeling most myself was when I swam in San Francisco Bay at nine years old, floating alone in shallow waters where the sun created mottled patterns on the sand. As a girl growing up in the 1950s, I think it was particularly important that I had experiences like this, which challenged my skills and sense of adventure, and gave me confidence in later contexts.

My family lived in a rambling California bungalow that backed on the mud flats of Alameda, in San Francisco Bay. Because the times were different, and because my caretaker was my 80-year-old grandmother, I was allowed to explore the sand, mud flats, puddles, and moving water of this shallow bay on my own from the time I was four years old.

The mud flats were alive with clams bubbling up from under the ground, small sand crabs scuttling sideways in all directions, and small and large rocks that could be moved around.

One of my favorite things to do, as an only child who often played alone, was to make miniature worlds in the sand. I would pile rocks in various formations, decorate them with shells and sticks, and create “houses” for the sand crabs.

The nasturtiums by the lawn were also ideal for miniature worlds. They looked like tiny trees and were adorned in fragrant, orange flowers. I would bring my storybook dolls and stuffed animals out with my grandmother’s collection of handkerchiefs, and create tents from handkerchiefs and sticks for the dolls.

Summer camping trips or beach visits are a great time to make miniature worlds with your child. Recently my grandson and I spent several days on the beach, digging sand castles with moats, adorned with kelp decorations. Don’t forget to bring shovels that really work, and small toys or Tupperware molds can enhance fantasy possibilities. Days like this are unforgettable.