The Ocean Heals
Allowing nature to do its thing, nourish and replenish us.
The ocean is constantly changing
moving forward toward the sand
or backward toward itself.
The waves crash
then slowly mellow their flow as they
inch toward the shore.
Gifts are deposited
with each pass.
The horizon
allows you to imagine
what lies ahead.
The ocean moves with
the Earth as she turns on her axis
from night to day, day to night,
month to month, year to year,
eternity.
The ocean horizon
meets eloquently with the sky
as they work together
to provide a vastness
unfathomable.
An expanse
that prompts fear,
emptiness and sadness of
the unknowns
that swell up inside.
The ocean brings life
and death.
The water pushes forth food for the birds
waiting patiently for the deposit.
As the tide recedes
other winged creatures
ride the waves and
catch what they need
with each swell.
Others still swoop down with
a driving force that is magical
and risky as they
catch their meal on the fly.
When the ocean is calm
the clouds roll along, unified
slowly adding dimension, movement
and shape for the audience
watching the performance.
Suddenly, a rainbow appears
adding color beyond the
grays, blues, and creams.
Then it’s gone
as if to say good morning.
Are you awake yet?
Did you notice me?
What is it about the ocean?
The steady sound of the waves,
loud, disturbing to some.
Overwhelming.
For others, it’s a constant melody
that provides stability,
certainty.
I feel it in my body
as a low rumble lulling
me to sleep.
Or if walking close to the ocean,
it inspires an aliveness, an awakening
to its strength, its vastness.
The smell is a salty, damp scent
mixed in with the
freshness of the breeze skimming
the space between the sky
and the waves.
Calming not obstrusive in any way.
It fills me up inside
like drinking water for hydration.
It replenishes what is missing.
The salty fresh sea air is exhilarating, and the sound of the waves crashing loudly as they make their way to the sandy beach gives me pause. I feel small and powerless in the face of the enormity and uncertainty that exist. Feeling small is okay, as it humbles me to the fact that nature truly rules us all, but we are too consumed with our daily struggles to grasp the relevance and too absorbed in the ridiculous notion that we can control it. What arrogance.
As I walk the beach, there are small groups of people and four leggeds leisurely roaming the beach. There was also a smattering of solitary individual souls like myself. As I stroll, I can’t help but wonder what they are feeling and thinking as they make their way along this stunning part of the Pacific Ocean. Past walks on this beach and others just like it, along the Oregon coast, come to mind. Walks with my daughter, my spouse and our dogs. Mia, my daughter’s yellow lab, lived to run through the waves with reckless abandon, while Sophie, our Weimaraner, would skirt the edges of the waves as they kissed the beach. Sophie never liked the water much; the rush of the waves scared her. She would run at Mia when Mia was safely on the sand and then quickly run back towards us to make sure we were aware of her presence and still following along.
We no longer have our four-legged companions physically walking with us along the beach, but we are not alone. Their spirit resides wherever we allow, whether it be through dog impressions on the sand, tears that flow freely recalling their memory, the nuanced movement of the clouds, the gentle breeze, or a single seagull resting before a flight over the ocean. The ocean replenishes what is missing.