I had been thinking about her a lot lately. I missed her. I recently saw her again, it was as if we had never been apart. Some friendships last a lifetime.
When I first met her, it was love at first sight. She remains beautiful, formidable, secretive, gentle, yet powerful. She possesses a depth that I cannot even begin to imagine. There are not enough adjectives to describe a force of life.
She taught many things to a willing student, despite the fact that she is considerably older than me. She taught me about life and what really matters, she showed me miraculous sights and encouraged me to explore. Nothing has changed, she still mesmerizes and intrigues me. I could not help but stare at her, reminiscing about the past. Some of my fondest memories are associated with her.
"You look good," I say.
"Thank you. I have been ill," she states matter-of-factly.
"I know." Sigh. "I know."
She ignores my response. "It's hot. Let's go for a swim." She beckons, playful as ever.
The sound of breaking waves, the rhythmic play of water lifts the weight of the sky off Atlas' shoulders. I take a deep breath of sea-scented air, letting the cool water lick my ankles.
With an ungainly gallop I plunge into the waves, diving into a blue alien world. The sudden silence of muffled sound, the simple pleasure of swimming buoyed by saline water, triggers earliest memories of imagination; pretending to be a dolphin, an orca or a shark.
My predisposition toward constantly disappearing beneath the surface of any body of water, including the bathtub, used to drive my parents insane. I laugh out loud as I recall being a megalodon, a prehistoric shark, circling my prey, then grabbing my mother's ankles from the abyss of the deep blue sea.
"ANTARES! Are you mad?!?" my victim squealed.
*Chomp* I replied.
"Antares. STOP IT!"
*Chomp* *Chomp* "Mom, I just ate you." Satiated, the cold glint of the ultimate predator in my eyes, I would show her row upon row of enormous serrated teeth, then glide silently back into my domain.
I still lack tail and fins. Nobody is perfect.
The oceans, however, are.
She laughs joyfully, watching my non-streamlined antics as I float lazily on my back.
"Welcome back, my child. Welcome back."
Very well told, my friend. The ocean has always intrigued me too. But scared me a little as well.
ReplyDeleteI think many of us have a similar disposition
ReplyDelete- and aquatic history!
Indeed. She's a beauty. I too have to stare.
ReplyDeleteAwesome writing. I went to the beach yesterday for the first time in a very long time. It's always so inviting and beautiful. I watch the waves and how they ebb and flow. The sounds, the smells of the salt water and air. It's my drug of choice.
ReplyDeleteWow. Love this. I take living on an island for granted. I will share some pictures of here, with you, on my blog. I can look down the street I live on and see the ocean. As I come up over the hill we live on, I see it's great vastness and it's always a reminder of how small this island really is.
ReplyDeleteAnother wonderfully evocative piece of writing. I really do love coming here.
ReplyDelete@Vinny, thanks. Go figure. Almost didn't put it up, because it's the first draft version and I didn't want to change/edit it.
ReplyDeleteThe ocean does demand respect, yo.
@Alistair, indeed we do. Maybe the dolphins got it right; free sushi, sand massages and swimming in the ocean all day.
@dbs, she's one of those "awesome things".*clap*
@Barb, thank you. I agree, it's instacalm. Great natural addiction to have. Are you too far to go frequently?
@Meg, thank you. Looking forward to seeing the pics. Is it time for your annual post? ;)It's a reminder that we live on a waterworld.
@Jono, cheers, appreciate it.
I've been reading yours, always something interesting.
Things have been a little hectic, haven't been commenting much in general. I'll be by to visit more "formally".
Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteI have a healthy respect (fear) of deep water. I much feel safer 10,000 feet above it than I do 10 inches under it.
ReplyDeleteThere is nothing more peaceful than the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. Loved your post.
ReplyDeleteI am here. *sniff* *cough*
ReplyDeleteAt first I thought this was about me.. I thought "aww.. that Ant..." ;)
I was a mermaid...:)
This was outstanding!!
ReplyDelete@Laoch, thank you, kind sir.
ReplyDelete@Robert, interesting. I would rather go scuba- than sky-diving. I have a healthy respect for the sky and falling.
@Nubian, I completely agree. Glad you liked it.
@Waterfairy, first you see elves, now you're the ocean? ;)
Once a waterbaby, always a waterbaby!
Hope you recover quickly.
@Al, thank you, appreciate it.
HaHa Ant! Although I did think about just linking you to my photo album on Facebook... :D
ReplyDeleteI am having trouble commenting on here for some reason. I just wanted you to know that I love the post. It was exhilirating. I forgot how much I love her too. Because of your post, I'm considering a visit with her soon. It might be just what I need right now. Thanks.
ReplyDelete@Meg, always an option, but not on fb anymore.
ReplyDeleteYou can always describe pics in comments.;)
@Naaaaarriiii, good to "see" you.
I think you should, healing change of scenery.
What kind of problems? Not in the mood to troubleshoot, but what is it doing?
It doesn't accept my Google Account but oh well at least I figured out how to comment either way.
ReplyDeleteNari, Google made some changes on August 1. Try updating your browser to the newest version and clearing cookies.
ReplyDeleteHi Ant. I've been here and away, back and about, several times since you posted this beautiful tribute. Long may our (personal and communal) love for our ocean endure. She is marvelous and magnificent. May we learn again to serve her well and with the reverence she deserves.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this poetry.
Claire, hear, hear.
ReplyDeleteRespect and reverence is indeed what our waterworld deserves and the biodiversity she supports.
Thank you and you're welcome.
Good to see you.:)