Luci Merin

As early as the summer sun comes up, I was awake to watch it this morning. My sunrise view to the east looks directly at Crescent Beach. This time of the year the sun rises just to the north of the beach and is in the very left of my frame. By December the sun is thankfully rising much later and is far south of the beach in the right of my view. No matter the time of year, that contour of sandy shoreline is in just about every picture I take facing east, from sunrise to moonrise.

Except for a single visit when my children were small, the view from across the pond is my only, but daily, connection to Crescent Beach. I’ve watched it fill with beach goers on a hot summer day, sit quietly idle in the winter, and cradle flocks of migrating birds fall and spring. Its distinct outline is a reference when pointing out a feature in or above the water to someone. I’m just an observer.

The lucky ones have been part of the Crescent Beach community. Neighborhood children who visited the beach most days, their parents who did the same when they were young, and even their grandparents who remember when Linwood and Deanna Andrews bought the slice of land on Taylor Pond in 1961 and started the journey that would span a lifetime. Stories of days on the beach, juke box music, hot French fries, and cooling swims all include a common theme—Mr. and Mrs. Andrews greeting them at the gate or over the snack counter. They may have started out to create a summer beach business, but the Andrews ended up building a beach family instead.

Having greeted beachgoers through the summer of 2023, Linwood Andrews passed away late last year. I know the Taylor Pond community joins me in extending sincere sympathies and strength to his wife Deanna and family. While the beach is closed and its future uncertain, it is certain that the Andrews family can be proud of the work they did, the memories they created and the legacy they built on the shores of Taylor Pond. From just an observer, thank you.