A wall of ocean undulating so deep, so furious beneath the surface, looks black. Just beyond can be seen the green-darkest blues-tinge of white in caps further away.
It looks endless. It looks bottomless. It can overtake and destroy me. And I want no one to know I am no match for the ocean, no match for its power, this force.
So while I feel absolute certainty the ocean power far outweighs my own, I calculate my response to others around me. Only revealing that I can’t take it all on, when I feel I can not take any of it on.
The door opens-the sound and the smell of the ocean fill my face and hands with the sticky spray and stinging wind. On the deck beyond the door, I hold the railing, smile and talk as we three stand together.
I feel as I watch the swelling of the ocean, the loss of balance as I am sucked into the motion as the waves. They rise, rise, rise further and then a second’s pause before the crash of the curl of the wave as it breaks into the black of the sea.
Then a ripple begins and spreads and rises to form another wave.
My feet hold me steady but my eyes and stomach have fully forgotten that I am attached through my arms and legs to the solid unyielding wood of the railing and deck floor. The other two people stand nearby engaged in their conversation unrelated to my personal demon of fascination and apprehension embodied in the roaring and devastating ocean.
Again the tide has pulled back the covers of the shore and revealed in the moonlight the small spent shells and broken twigs where I am now.
The tide fills the channel near the adjacent rocks that cut through the waves as they break, and rushes to fill the gaps as it slaps the rocks intensely. The tide runs back as much as it comes forward. It hums on and on.
Now I feel my feet and now I feel the ocean sweeping around my legs. Its white foamy spray tantalizingly snug around my ankles.
I feel the ocean embrace me: Caressing me with Its beauty and Its relentless redemption.