Sunday, July 19, 2009

The ocean beckons ..


I go to my beloved sea soon.

Tomorrow I leave for New Brunswick for 5 days, to visit old, dear friends and attend a wedding. But, truth be told, the thing to which I am looking most forward is the sea. For we will be spending three days on a tiny island off the coast of New Brunswick called Grand Manan.

It’s been a lifetime since I was there last – at least 30 years. It is a gem of an island, set in the beautiful, cold Atlantic where whales cavort and call beneath the ocean and fisher folk never learn to swim as the treacherous ocean will freeze them to death or swallow them in its implacable waves before rescuers can reach them.

I feel as if I am going to burst.

I want to walk the rocky, coarse sand of the Atlantic beaches and feel the waves crashing against the shore and breathe deep the salt-laden tang of ocean. I want to wander as the sun flames golden into the restless sea and stand above the cliffs which spill down to the roar of ocean and watch the gulls wheel and cry above and feel my soul burst free.

I am a creature of the sea.

I yearn for it often, an aching, low-grade need that necessity and the realities of my life have forced into abeyance but lives in my soul nonetheless. There is something about the sea that calls to me, that creates in me a sense of peace and yet a wildness that consumes and connects me to the universe unlike anything else I have ever experienced. And it is the wild, cruel, cold Atlantic that whispers to me in my concrete world, the staid lap of lake water a mocking reminder of its glory, but to which I am pulled again and again, only to despair as I watch its changeable depths in vain for the myriad colours and fresh, strong scent of its progenitor.

I will swim in my beloved, cruel ocean.

My friends will laugh and think me mad when I dive into the pristine, frigid depths and feel the sweep of ice trickle through the flame of my hair and marble pale my skin. The cold is such that I can only stay 10 or more minutes then slowly my circulation will start to slow and my body shiver and the euphoria of being embraced will overwhelm and only my rationality will force me, reluctant, from its frigid, beloved grip.

And I will rise, reluctant, from my ocean and walk the rocky, dulce-strewn beach and feel, for that moment, content.

I go to my ocean tomorrow so please be well and let life be wonderful this week and think and be happy that the selkie returns to her home.

7 comments:

ronnie said...

I am happy for you Selkie, I know how much you feel at home with the sea.

Have a wonderful time.

Love.
Ronnie
xx

littleone said...

you know selkie i can remember a road that lead from the highway down to the sea... that my father drove each summer.. and i would hop about in the back seat - animated for the first time since the trip began.. because i could smell the ocean.. and then hear it... and hear the screaming of the gulls ... and i knew i had come "home"...

i envy you your trip to the sea..think of me under my red umbrella as you catch that first scent of the ocean....

enjoy your trip... i will miss you

morningstar (owned by Warren)

Tallgrass said...

Hope you have a great trip and wonderful time with your sea. I'll be eager to know that you have a safe and wonderful time.

Louise said...

I do understand your love for the sea, Selkie, and how it calls to you, and creates that sense of peace and wildness!
Have a wonderful time, and do take care.

S. said...

Beautifully, wondrously expressed...

Gillette said...

I, too, am a child of the Sea. I'm so happy you get to go "home." Enjoy!

Liras said...

There is something about walking in water, feeling it on you ankles, that restores the soul.

Enjoy yourself.