What I Love About the Ocean

I love going to the ocean. I was born near water and have always lived near an ocean. As a child, it was the Pacific Ocean, now it is the Atlantic Ocean.

• I am not the type to sunbathe or surf. I'd rather beachcomb. I love finding sea glass and shells and beautiful ocean rocks that have been polished by years of salt water and movement.

• I love the sound of the waves crashing. I love the low tide when I can walk out into the water and find shells seldom seen. Tide pools inspire me. When we lived in San Diego, the tide pools, near La Jolla,  filled with sea urchins, sea anemones, mussels and tiny shells was a frequent place to explore.  I have fond memories of deep sea fishing with my Father off the Pacific coast in Redondo Beach, California. We would catch fish and place them in gunnysacks. I remember watching Daddy gut and clean the fish. It was a man's job with a sharp knife. That night we'd enjoy our fish feast. Our home smelled of fish. So did the green VW bus we rode in. The memory of the sea between my toes and in my hair and ears washed off at bath time remained in the tub. The ever present sand reminding me of our trip to the sea. As I drifted off to sleep, I could hear the ocean sounds and feel the swaying of the waves.
• Sand castle contests in Ocean Beach, California is fascinating to see. The talent of sand artists is a rarity. We found this sand art on the beach of Ogunquit, Maine. I have experienced the ocean in all seasons. I have bundled up and walked the sand in snow boots. I have had sand in my hair for days. I have tasted salt. I have felt the spray of sea water on my face. I have felt the tug of the sand under my feet pulling me deeper.  I have sung songs around a fire and eaten hotdogs and toasted marshmallows with my friends. I have had my Mother wipe my burned skin with apple cider vinegar to cool my pain. I have years of freckles from sea sun. Now, we are introducing our children to the sea and all it's wonders. They collect broken shells, driftwood, sea glass, smooth stones, and fallen feathers with unruly and separate vanes. They are building their own memories of the sea. We are remembering ours and seeing it fresh again.