Story Behind The Song: Chair On A Beach

The sand was hot under our feet, the kind that makes you walk a little faster, and when we reached the top, the whole shoreline opened up in front of us — one of the best west‑facing beaches anywhere.

To the left, the beach stretched toward the mouth of the Ontonagon River. To the right, it ran endlessly, wide and bright, as if we were standing on a Florida coastline. It rivals any beach I’ve ever seen.

It wasn’t a vacation. It wasn’t a big outing. But it felt like a big getaway.

As we sat there eating, toes in the sand, I let the sun bathe me. For a few minutes, I wasn’t thinking about medications or schedules or decisions. I wasn’t anticipating the next need. I was simply present — with the people who were helping carry this journey alongside me. We watched the gulls circling around us, happy to share in our uneaten crust, and the waves lapped the shore in a rhythm that made you relax without even trying.

The caregiver and I both love water — looking at it, swimming in it, being anywhere near it — so later, when I sat at my piano, I kept thinking about how that day felt. I wanted to write something for her that carried the same calm, the same breath, the same sense of escape we shared on that beach.

Chair on a Beach is my three‑minute vacation —  a small piece of rest I get to share with others who might need one too.