I love listening to the sound of the ocean. Whether it is the rhythmic slapping of the water against the shore, or white, foaming waves roaring angrily in rapid crests, drilling and swirling onto the beach in a maelstrom of natural force and beauty or as it quietly absorbs the sun at the end of the long, summer’s day barely making a ripple of sound. Something about the ocean has always spoken to me. As I lay on my beach towel on the sun drenched sands, I contemplate why that is.
The Sound of the Sea
THE sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain’s side,
Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep.
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Could I have been an ancient sailor at some point? One with the seas until my untimely demise during a mid-summer gale? Perhaps an ageless mariner that lost the epic battle to some fierce-some sea foe. One as terrifyingly majestic as The Kracken, as monstrously enormous as the infamous Moby Dick, or maybe, just possibly, a mistaken leap into the boundless depths of the deep and to my own death amid the magical siren calls from a beautiful yet deadly Mermaid.
Perhaps I had been some historic seaman’s lost love waiting for her man to return. One that never came home. So she mourns her loss while walking the beaches endlessly until her heart dies within her breast? Could that be the yearning for the ocean I endlessly feel? Some tragic lost love embedded in my blood? Was he lost at sea, or did he have many lady-loves along many coast lines, and chose to settle in some exotic port with someone else?
OR- Do I just enjoy the endless relaxation that is felt with all that power and pull from the ocean? Love the feel o the sand between my toes and an umbrella’d beverage in my hand? HMMM.
What a way to live! What I wouldn’t do to find a way to live, work and play close to the ocean. Pretty much ANY ocean. I sincerely dread my current situation. Which is stuck in a cubicle in the middle of the desert, inside of a building with no approachable windows. Wondering what the sky looks like outside because I can’t even gauge it from where I am amid the acres of grey. Spending every spare second daydreaming about a single moment on the beach, and wishing to be there so fervently that I can almost feel the seafoam mists on my face.