Friday, September 30, 2011


I can never seem to explain my overwhelming love for the ocean. It draws me in like a rip tide.  I can't even conceive of living somewhere where I couldn't at least jump in my car and be there in 20 minutes.  The feel of the wind...the sound of the waves pounding the's like: weighlessness.  It's fascinating to me the way the water pushes up a little farther with each swell, or pulls in a little closer, powerful and yet...a slave to the moon.  I can spend hours searching for shells and sea glass, or exploring tide pools, in search of hermit crabs and urchins.  After a while I can feel the salt on my hair, and my skin, and I don't care.  When I die, throw my ashes into the sea so I can be in that blue-green heaven, swimming with the dolphins, gliding through liquid space like a manta ray.  Meanwhile, I'll just spend my free moments (rare, though they may be) walking along the shoreline, because that's where I find my peace, and inspiration.  When the craziness of life starts to suffocate me, I find my way to the beach
...and breathe.

Caren E. Salas

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