The Ocean My Home

The Ocean My Home




I glimpse the ocean from the bend in the mountain road and my spirits lift but not enough to make a difference. We continue driving and my foot taps the floor impatiently. Where sleep had just called me like a owner to it's dog, it was gone now. The thought of feeling the sand between my bare toes has made me alert and ready. I've wanted to go to the beach for some time since I've returned to my bright and sunny home, but every time my family and I plan on going, my home turns cold and dark. Not right for a perfect beach day. Today we decided to go ahead and risk it. Who cares about the cold, right? We're driving parrel to the water now, and I crane my neck over my brother to see the water better. The water rises and falls like white clouds on a pure blue sky. The water is choppy and comes up high as it rises but it doesn't scare me. Maybe it is frustrated as well? It's probaly tired of being taken for granted and therefore It hurls it's wrath at the shore. Oh, how I wish I could be like the ocean. To release my anger and not get reprimanded or questioned for it. We finally stop and I swing the door open, the wind screaming in my face. I stand up only to be pushed back down by the angry, invisible force. "So much for a bright and perfect day." I think drearily to myself as I slowly push myself back up. I stand up again and gently touch the door to close it only to be assisted by the angry hand of the wind. I stand and look out at the ocean, the wind whipping my hair into my face like a shield. My family and I slowly start walking toward the shore, making slow progress but making progress all the same. The wind screams it's curses at us and grabs at us trying to stop us from taking another step toward it's precious cargo, the sea. The sand shares in the wind's mood. Always letting us down when we think it's hard enough to support us. " The sand's as indecisive as the wind." I think to myself as I trudge along. "It doesn't know whether to hold us up or to continue letting us down.". The wind stops for a minute and my tangled hair drifts back to my face, merging and tangling with my glasses. I take off my glasses and put up my hood to take some of the brunt of the wind. We slowly walk along, each in our own thoughts, sand pelting our backs like hail. Here was where I could forget about everything. All the problems in my life, all the worries, all the drama. Everything. Everything disappeared when I came here like it never existed. I stopped, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. The salty air filled my nostrils, burned my lungs. The smell was both disgusting and yet, intoxicating. I had always been known as a natural borne fish and coming back to the beach always refreshed me. I could go to it on the coldest of days and still feel refreshed and love it. It relaxed me and I wouldn't trade it for the world. It was another sort of home. I would live and breath the water if I could. Being in the water was as natural to me as breathing. Nothing was better than swimming. I open my eyes and follow my parents back to the car, my brother beside me. My music pounds in my ears, some rock song following the beat of the waves against the shore. As we drive away, I look out onto the ocean, willing it to be in my view for as long as possible. The water waves goodbye to me, it's big piles of seaweed drifting closer and yet, so far away. As we round the bend in the mountain, the ocean vanishes from view and I slowly turn around. Back to the same old life. My distraction, my refreshment lasting a total hour and a half. And yet, I know it's back there, waiting for me to come back and get my daily dose of medicine. And as we drive away in our car, I can faintly hear the wind whisper" I'm sorry.