Dear Ocean, We Meet at Last

 An ocean’s embrace is much different than that of mountains. I cannot escape the feeling I’ve been missing something all this time. Yes, a mountain is a guardian and a goal—it is endurance and the quintessence of beauty one finds at the greatest of heights. But the ocean’s particular breed of beauty comes with depth. The process of lowering oneself into the water, pressing one’s feet into the sand, standing motionless and knowing that the sea is moving and changing everything. An ocean all at once grabs for those who walk in its midst while appearing still, like an endless road spotted with glittering footsteps stretching into the horizon.

 Upon my first sight of the ocean, it was impossible not to overreact. For the landlocked people of the world the ocean is idealized, idolized, like a renowned celebrity that asks for nothing of fame yet receives it nonetheless. I wanted the ocean waters to autograph my legs, and I ran in regardless of the chill. I splashed and ran along the shore through the bubbly serf. I maneuvered around hundreds of people sprawled across the beach like an impressionist masterpiece. Each glowed like a candle in the late afternoon light.

There is something about a beach in relation to the expanse of the ocean that speaks to life. Life is displayed there in stages—I spotted mothers lathering sunscreen onto confused baby faces, children determined to perfect sand castles, teenage girls gossiping on brightly colored towels, college students drinking, married couples strolling, older couples watching with gentle smiles of nostalgia as subtle and strong as the waves. Each lives out a part of his/her life here, each in face of whatever lies in those vast expanses—in face of the truly unknown.

 Why do people get comfort from the ocean? I have never felt a more peaceful excitement than when I sat watching my first sunset, seeing the orange sun sink into the bowels of the sea like a swallowed tangerine. The wind has never seemed so purposeful, as when my dress billowed behind me and I smelled the gentle breath of misty air. Some jokingly say it gives them comfort because they could escape in the case of a zombie apocalypse. But maybe the ocean is just an escape from everything. A return to a humanity as simple and significant as footsteps in the sand. Away from the whirlwind of an apocalypse of thoughts, to the comfort of the ocean’s unknown one can wade in for a moment.