I love the sea.
That said, I am not one of the lucky few who feel most comfortable in the ocean.
It should be noted that they are a subset even of those who feel at home in the water, because the ocean, in its unending vastness, in its power and unfathomable profundity, is incomparable to pools and ponds.
It is a special person, indeed, who is a creature of the sea.
Moral of the story, I’m more of a sea-groupie.
I love the smell and the sound, love the taste and feel, I love to lounge and laze at the edge, to dip in and quickly back out, indulging myself in my briny coat.
I love that whether you look up or out, you can see for miles.
The sky seems to stretch near the sea, sensing its competition, bending past the horizon, swelling upward like a filling balloon.
The sea is content to swish around, stealing the show with its quiet confidence.
The sky is threatened by its more brilliantly azure sister, and produces sun shows indescribable in their beauty.
Pale pastels contrast with the darkening sky and silvery waves, trailing the blazing sun as it passes out of sight.
The most radiant, I think, are sunsets where the sun peeks out from holes in pillowy clouds, streaming forth in great, illuminating rays.
I’m not religious, but these are the times when I look up at the sky and see a god beaming down.