The Ocean

The ocean does it for me.  Some people say how much they love the mountains, come fall up in the north east the leaf peepers flock further north to sit in the mountains and stare at leaves that really do look awesome because they have this hot fiery color, like flames.

 For me, at that time I hibernate, counting the days until I can sit in the hot sun, until I can stare out at the ocean, the vast endless horizon, hear the sound of crashing waves getting louder as the tide changes  laying  there soaking up the energy.

There is something about the smell of sunscreen and salt air, something about rinsing off at the end of the day in the ice cold showers that remove the salt and sand from your skin. 

Rinse off the day spent at the beach, all day spent at the beach.

Looking in the mirror staring back at  cheeks blazoned from the sun’s rays and beach hair, Oh beach hair, how I love beach hair. But there is something more, something about the way the beach feels, a feeling of home, center,  a calm, me.  A full and complete sense of freedom while sitting there on the beach.

Those moments, those few and far between moments for me that  now when  I can get to the beach to find it’s familiar calm. 

It’s the same feeling of finding “the one” that same sense of peace and calm.

When I moved south I first settled in a state that was land locked, it really did bother me, a sense of something missing.  Since, I have met “The one”, I moved and am no longer landlocked but the nearest ocean is at least 8 hours away, less sense of angst but at least I know the beach is now once again on my left,  just a bit of a drive way.  For now I have to rely on the smell of sunscreen while sitting at the pool helping to conjure up the memories of the ocean and the shots I took while I was up north this past summer. Certainly not enough were taken, but the few I have will have to be it for now.

The ocean does it for me.

2 comments on “The Ocean”

  1. I know I miss you too.

  2. Awesome picture. You know what does it for me? Salt soup. The feeling of sitting down to a piping hot bowl of homemade soup, inhaling the rich scent of chicken broth and vegetables and watching my fingers expand shortly after consuming the bowl of liquid warmth. 🙂 Now that I’m in RI, I wish you still lived in NE. We could roast ourselves at the Dunes then pop over to Del’s for an icey cold lemonade.


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