I love the winter ocean. The colors and solitude. Not the quiet because the wind and the waves are accentuated when empty of people.
I love the push and pull of the water coming up trying to catch me. The dead remaining debris from long ago or maybe recently forgotten. The reminder of being insignificant surrounded by significance.
I love the winter ocean now as the days become longer. Watching the white foam and wondering if the tide is the ocean’s breath or the waves rhythmically inhaling and exhaling. I love standing on the shore and daring the ocean to come and touch my shoes. I love the virgin sand and the awareness that this sand maybe older than me and one day I may be sand.
Coming here to the ocean brings me peace at a time of turmoil. A time when hate and objectification of women has been glorified. The ocean reminds me of the temporary aspect of all living beings of all ideas. Every shift, movement, wind worn debris is a reminder that for every action there are consequences, always.