I took this photo last summer. It was early evening, the end of a perfect beach day. Most of the beach crowd had packed up and gone, and there were only a few families and small groups left. This is my favorite time of day on the beach. The air is a bit cooler, the light is softer, and the beach is quiet and empty, allowing you to really see the expansive shoreline.

As I watched the waves roll in, I noticed a small girl playing at the edge of the water. She had such happy energy—running with the waves as they came to shore, splashing and playing. She looked sweet, innocent, curious, and not afraid.

At one point, she stopped to stand and watch the waves roll in. As I watched her stand at the edge of the surf, the huge waves rushing up to meet her, my maternal instincts kicked in. I immediately felt protective of her and wanted to shield her from harm and danger.

She was a picture of innocence and vulnerability up against the menacing waves crashing on shore—so small, standing there in her little white dress. But what struck me was that she also had an air of bravery and strength.

This was the “thing” that made me want to raise my camera and capture the scene. To me, she looked like a symbol of vulnerability, strength, and bravery all at once.

I am not referring to the “heal the inner child” concept—that’s not what I’m saying here at all!

I guess what I’m saying is that as adults, we all feel a sense of vulnerability at some point in our lives. And that vulnerability? Feeling small? Feeling like the waves might knock you down? That’s real.

And so is the part of us that stands firm anyway—much like the small child facing rough surf in the picture.

I think this is something we can all relate to.

To see more of my beaches gallery, click here.