When I was a child and spent my summers at my grandma’s place, on some days my sister, cousins and I went to a sandy beach after breakfast and stayed there for hours. We spent most of the time in the water, so by the evening I was convinced I saw skin starting to grow between my fingers and toes as I was turning into a mermaid, my body was sprinkled with a thin layer of salt or so sun burnt that granny rubbed sour cream on it, and in the evening in bed with eyes closed, I felt as if the sea was still carrying me.
Years later, when the next generation was young, we were smarter parents, aware of the dangers of the sun for the skin, so the full day beach joy was not an option any more. Still there were many days when my sis, cousins and I gathered the kids and toys and like a carnival procession walked through the village to the beach, where the kids spent most of the time in the water, racing around or building sand castles, when we forced them to come out because their lips seemed blue from cold, and as soon as they had warmed up, they were back in the water, and the adults often with them.
Now that more decades have passed, I am in the countryside without children. I don’t go to the beach during the day time. I’d rather stay in the shade from the sun during the day instead of grilling myself on a crowded beach and go swimming in the rocky beach close to our house where no one else is around. The sea is my source of strength.
I have changed, my swimming and sun bathing habits with me, but my love for the sea has stayed the same. I can’t imagine my life without the smell and sound of it, the changing shades and movement depending on the weather, and the feeling of agelessness and weightlessness as the salty water carries me. I like to go and sit on the rocks or walk down the sandy beach in the evening. Now the sandy beach has benches. After an action-full day with my 4-year-old nephew, chasing dragons and going on other adventures, I went to the beach and sat down on a bench looking at the white peaks of waves rolling to the shore and the setting sun glistening on the surface. My sea and I. Peace.
Such beautiful pictures. I love that you get to live close enough to the sea to visit so often. I love the water because of my own childhood, but I live nowhere close to the sea, and I miss it. This post brought it all back. Thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeleteOh these pictures! I spend time near the lake and sometimes get to the sea. It's an absolutely magical place. Watching the water race to the shore and roll out again is mesmerizing and so relaxing. I loved reading your sea praises and how your love affair with it has changed and stayed the same through the years.
ReplyDeleteThe rolling water is mesmerizing. I never experienced it until I was an adult. You were lucky to have a link to the sea all your life.
ReplyDeleteLovely pictures that make me wish I was there. I could sit for hours and just breathe and watch the water.
ReplyDeleteYour images (physical and verbal) are beautiful. I love the line "sea is still carrying me." The sea has certainly carried you long after those childhood moments, and continues to bring you peace. What a gift.
ReplyDeleteWe both love Miss Rumphius, but do you also know Roxenboxen? I ask, because I feel like this could be a picture book like that...one that Barbara Cooney would have loved to illustrate. Your images (in words and pictures) make me feel like I am there. I can imagine the way your imagination has been strengthen because of all the time you spend with the sea. This is some of my favorite writing of your's.
ReplyDeleteXO, Ruth