Driving along the interstate, I passed a brown and white sign saying that there was a Public Beach at the next exit. It was uncommonly mild for a Fall day and I hadn’t yet visited this particular beach. I exited the highway and easily found it. Getting out of my car, I heard gently crashing waves, but the elevated train tracks blocked my view of the beach.

The path led me to a tunnel whose entrance revealed the bay with the morning sun gleaming on the water. The only other visitors was a man and his dog.

I watched as the man tossed a piece of drift wood into the bay and his dog swam out to retrieve it. Returning to the land, the dog shook himself dry and then trotted happily down the beach, driftwood still in his mouth. His pride was shining and I could feel his joy.

When has a detour led to experience special moment?