Little fishes we…emerging as we do from a watery world. Thru the birth canal we swim, wiggle and struggle…reaching for first breath.
Is that why this sun sign is a water person? I’m addicted to the shore…not the water per se, the beach or boardwalk, the pier or jetty will do. And a sailboat cruise, hell, even a powerboat ride on the Bay is great summertime duty.
There’s something about the clean, the fresh and the negative ions. (Not to mentioned how cutting corners oil slicked up the Gulf of Mexico!) Way to devastate Creole life! Poor little crayfish! He did it…no, he did it…no, he did it! Under one or all of those oil-engineering nuts there is a pea!
I have ocean out my windows twice a day – at high tide. I have two rusting lawn chairs that I use at high tide. I have Canadian Geese goslings at high tide. I have ease and comfort and the good sense at high tide.
The mountain just sits there, rising an inch or two a year. But the ocean…the ocean is mysterious, dangerous, restless, seductive. The ocean is perpetual motion…my life is not. It is what I cannot be. Infinite.