The ocean. The sound of the waves hitting the beach. The quiet of the off season at the beach. The Nor'easterns and the wind, and yes even the hurricanes. My need for the beach has been amplified through this trying time for the beaches along the eastern coast.
I look at it now as a calling for me to be close to the water. Ironically in the devastation brought about in this storm I can say it has been a eye-opener for me, I realized how much I really do miss the ocean. Even a very angry ocean there is nothing like it. One of my favorite things to do is to take pictures of the ocean, or the dunes up to the ocean.
In the aftermath the curious wonder how anyone would like to live at the beach.
How do I explain it to anyone who does not have the lure of the ocean in their soul. Why do fishermen continue to fish while the danger is so high? They all, at one time or another decide not to go out on the water to work, But in the end they are always drawn back to the water. It is the pull of the ocean, the draw of the calmness of the waves, and the feeling of peace the ocean gives.
Living by the ocean gives one the feeling of being the only person in the world. The horizon is so very far away and it feels as if you can see forever. I can remember walking on the beach during the off season, freezing in a parka, snow boots and two pairs of pants, just looking out over the water and thinking how it goes on forever. Feeling so small next to it. Sitting there lost in the waves thinking of nothing more than how the waves build, roll and finally break on the beach.
Even the angry, stormy ocean is beautiful and a wonder to be seen. The way the waves slowly build, the white foam blowing off the top, then finally ever so slowly curl over and break with a deafening roar. The roar which can be heard for blocks. Sounding like a lullaby to me, relaxing me to sleep. I think I have been land-locked for too many years. Feeling the call of the ocean more and more every day.
These storms are like a whistle to me to follow. I am not sure how I can get back there but that is the goal for the future. Preferably an Island, to be able to cross a bridge to get home is one of the greatest feelings. Leaving LBI years ago, the happiest time was when I made it to the bridge and smelled the smell. A cross between dead fish, salt water and seaweed, it stunk to most people, my mother hated it, I would open the windows and know I was almost home. Even today when I get to that smell it is the best smell, better than any perfume or room freshener, it always smelled like home.
One day I will get there and enjoy all the sounds of the water much more. I will remember to cherish every sound and smell unlike I did before. I now know how very special the ocean and beach are to me with being away for so long. I will lay in bed and keep the window open, even in the cold of winter to be able to hear that special sound of the rolling waves. I will make it a priority to see it every day. Watch more sunrises on the beach. See the sun cross the horizon and feel the warmth as it moves over head to heat the day.
Yes, one day I will get back there and enjoy every second of it even in the less than desirable weather of winter. Yes, one day my soul will be reunited to the call of the ocean siren of long ago stories. Finally, I do understand.
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