Summer is short and oh so sweet of a season.

A door opens and leads to an ocean of memories and wonders. A day to be grateful led to a brightly painted door of art and wondering why it was placed there. A walk along an outdoor art trail led by a pen-and-ink toad. Then thinking about how open space and parks are so important (they don't just happen) to a densely populated state and region. It takes vision to see the interconnectedness of land and life forms (not just people) and dedicated action to preserve space plus history or natural history features that are irreplaceable.

For instance, my uncle is gone from this earth, but the memory of his leading as expedition to a group of youngsters to find crabs in their muddy burrows one summer is an indelible memory.

The aroma of ocean-y breezes, the tang of tidal marshes and hot tar are part of days spent walking barefoot from sandy beach to the camping area where my aunt and uncle stayed once upon a time at Meigs Point. (The flat rise now a much-needed open parking area.) Once upon a time a neighbor held my hand as we crossed a wooden plank that served as a footbridge over a tidal stream to the beach while my mother rounded up the rest of her children. When the tide was high tiny fish could be seen in the water under that board. The living waters were a source of fascination as life simply glided by.

The ride to get to the ocean happened in our (mostly) trusty family station wagon – a trip that seemed endless. To occupy our time, there were crayons and coloring books; out the windows that rolled down (no air conditioning ever) the passing views were pretty boring. At the wheel, my mother headed south with a cooler chocked full of ice, carefully packed with sliced ham in waxed paper, Wonder bread, cold pickles in a jar and a bag of chips. A box of picnic supplies included colorful pails and shovels, towels, flip flops, baby oil; a knife wrapped in plastic for slicing a ripe tomato and a pair of festive salt and pepper shakers. A radio powered by batteries and a car full of young humans – each eager to be the first to spot a looming water tower over the horizon ahead – a sight meant that we were almost there.

Nowadays, the water tank is gone and so are many of the people who shared these beach-y days – swimming or romping in the surf, digging in the sand. Hungry in our wet bathing suits and wrapped in towels that smelled of the sun and ocean, we'd happily chomp ham-and-mayo sandwiches and salty potato chips while sitting on the tailgate swinging our feet. So grateful that my mother had the gumption to seek “the beach” – a place she defined as Meigs Point, which can be packed with throngs yet remains untamed.

A tip of the hat to members of The Friends of Hammonasset, a group dedicated to the oceanfront state park that offers many family friendly events year round. There is an admission fee to the state park (worth it), but most programs are free – such as a new art trail installation.

“I want to hear from you. Everyone has something to be grateful for (even when things are difficult). Curious? Stop by to see the bright yellow door with scrawls of writing that is a part of a “What Makes You Grateful?” project led by Anne Kubistsky (the idea here is that ‘gratitude opens doors'). Take a stroll on the “Good Art” trail that winds along the dunes at Hammonasset Beach State Park to enjoy the gallery of images. Or pick up a blank postcard (find them at the art trail on a signpost) and follow the instructions to become part of the project (and online gallery).

Construction of a 42-acre town park on the former Griswold Airport continues to the land adjacent to Hammonasset Beach State Park that will offer sports fields plus passive recreation space and a kayak launch. The land has frontage on the Hammonasset River and once faced development as a residential community. More about how that didn't happen at The Trust for Public Land.

The Connecticut state park system offers many affordable explorations for families on a budget or otherwise over terrain that includes rocky trails and placid picnic areas, history galore, plus camping, horseback riding and swimming – and sometimes a quiet place to contemplate life.

“For most of us, knowledge of our world comes through sight, yet we look about with such unseeing eyes that we are partially blind.” – Rachel Carson

To be continued.