i know i don't post in here often, and i have not done any new writing in quite some time, but i found something i had forgotten i wrote the other day about the ocean. its not really good, i think i was trying to work it into bits and pieces i hoped to write about beaches i had been on, but feared it was only repeating all that had already been said about beaches and the ocean.
blue clear green brown
sitting on the shore, waves lap at your legs and butt, landing sand on your lap, only to be washed away. more sand gets trapped in your suit, and if you look out you can see, sometimes, a person with their suit off, washing it.
shells, if it's the right kind of beach, come in. wash in, wash out. the zen of the ocean. some shells have crabs living in them. they have their homes on their back. when they get too big, they leave and move on. big fish, small pond? pinky brown white, speckled striped swirled, smooth...all shells by the seashore.
some sand is big grained. chunks of gravel. others are soft and silky. it squeaks when you cross it and get so hot so fast, but cools quickly at night. brown sand does not contrast the deep deep aquamarine of the ocean well, but it is so traditional, so undeniably SAND you cannot fault it for that.
some beaches have garbage. some have coconuts. no messages in bottles though.
trust me. i looked.
lots of cans whitewashed by salt, sand and sun. there are rocks. brainy pieces of coral that are pretty but cut you fast. tidal pools form at low tide, capturing small bits of animalia you might never see otherwise. mudskippers jump, squirm and get slimey. strange holes bubble and push out water, digging reveals nothing.
trust me. i looked.
tides reveal new areas of beach. water falls back to its source and opens new paths. do not explore too much, you'll get stuck. the water swirling back hours later brings life to areas of beach you thought were dead zones.
big waves are fun to play in, but as the waves build, so do the tides underneath, waiting to entrap you and pull you away silently. they toss you like a doll and are thrown to shore, disrespected by the ocean. sitting there sputtering and sandy, choking on salt water. you suddenly feel frightened at travelling alone.
some places, with limestone cliffs hundreds of feet high make you realize how much the water the Earth once had. Caves and holes fish once inhabitated are now swallows nests high above your head.
diving, the water gets cooler, more fluid. the sandy bottom is being slowly pushed to land, by currents. you later learn this to be called eckman transport as you sit in marine biology class, dreaming of another place, another time. the past, the future, it's not important. you remember it just as clearly. surfacing, the water burns your eyes a bit and you lick the salt off your lips. it's impossible to sink, and you lie there, staring at teh sun through the pink of your eyelids until a wave pushes over and surprises you, leaving your nose full of water.
you smile and let the ocean swallow you alive, washing away your sins.
blue clear green brown
sitting on the shore, waves lap at your legs and butt, landing sand on your lap, only to be washed away. more sand gets trapped in your suit, and if you look out you can see, sometimes, a person with their suit off, washing it.
shells, if it's the right kind of beach, come in. wash in, wash out. the zen of the ocean. some shells have crabs living in them. they have their homes on their back. when they get too big, they leave and move on. big fish, small pond? pinky brown white, speckled striped swirled, smooth...all shells by the seashore.
some sand is big grained. chunks of gravel. others are soft and silky. it squeaks when you cross it and get so hot so fast, but cools quickly at night. brown sand does not contrast the deep deep aquamarine of the ocean well, but it is so traditional, so undeniably SAND you cannot fault it for that.
some beaches have garbage. some have coconuts. no messages in bottles though.
trust me. i looked.
lots of cans whitewashed by salt, sand and sun. there are rocks. brainy pieces of coral that are pretty but cut you fast. tidal pools form at low tide, capturing small bits of animalia you might never see otherwise. mudskippers jump, squirm and get slimey. strange holes bubble and push out water, digging reveals nothing.
trust me. i looked.
tides reveal new areas of beach. water falls back to its source and opens new paths. do not explore too much, you'll get stuck. the water swirling back hours later brings life to areas of beach you thought were dead zones.
big waves are fun to play in, but as the waves build, so do the tides underneath, waiting to entrap you and pull you away silently. they toss you like a doll and are thrown to shore, disrespected by the ocean. sitting there sputtering and sandy, choking on salt water. you suddenly feel frightened at travelling alone.
some places, with limestone cliffs hundreds of feet high make you realize how much the water the Earth once had. Caves and holes fish once inhabitated are now swallows nests high above your head.
diving, the water gets cooler, more fluid. the sandy bottom is being slowly pushed to land, by currents. you later learn this to be called eckman transport as you sit in marine biology class, dreaming of another place, another time. the past, the future, it's not important. you remember it just as clearly. surfacing, the water burns your eyes a bit and you lick the salt off your lips. it's impossible to sink, and you lie there, staring at teh sun through the pink of your eyelids until a wave pushes over and surprises you, leaving your nose full of water.
you smile and let the ocean swallow you alive, washing away your sins.
