Each year I insist we visit the same beach. Repetition tricks the mind into thinking a thing will last for ever | Jenny Sinclair

I want to give my kids that overarching sense of a single summer going on all through childhood, a door to a memory they can open any timeMore summer essentialsGet our breaking news email, free app or daily news podcastYou never step into the same river twice. But you can step into the same ocean, or so it seems, each January when we take that first swim: ducking our heads under a wave to feel the rush of cold and the sting of salt, shaking like dogs when we emerge, washed clean of the year just gone.When I was a child, it was Phillip Island: a green canvas tent in my grandfather's back yard; a chipped foam surfboard rasping against my skin as I lay on it, just floating in the channel between the island and the mainland, never daring to go into the actual surf. It was the acrid smoke of mozzie coils and the oily texture of the battered flake from the fish and chip shop. Showers under the tank stand; the sun burning our skin until it peeled.Sign up for a weekly email featuring our best readsJenny Sinclair is a Melbourne journalist and writer of creative nonfiction and fiction Continue reading...