Ocean: A body of water occupying two-thirds of a world made for man – who has no gills.
– Ambrose Pierce
Ah yes, the ocean. That great swath of blue and green that seems to go on for miles. Time literally stops when you’re walking on the sand, and it seems as though you could stroll on forever, your eyes constantly scanning the waves as the tide laps at your feet. Or maybe it’s just your underused calf muscles screaming at you. Maybe it just SEEMS like a lifetime since you began your unending journey. Maybe all that seaweed sloshing around your ankles, like some sort of slimy ball and chain, is slowing you down. Maybe you’re thinking to yourself, where the ding dang did we start from? The pier? THAT pier? That tiny toothpick tower that now appears 12 miles away?! And then you begin thinking, I can’t possibly carry on, I cannot conceivably take another step. I’m going to collapse, in a weathered heap, right here, next to this dead pelican. People will stop and say, oh, the poor unfortunate thing, and try to pluck feathers from your head. It is in this instant, your epiphany appears. You regain your strength. You CAN and must press on. Your legs become weightless, your stride grows longer, you suck in great gulps of salty air, and finally, after climbing endless cement steps…you stop. The Holy Grail awaits you. That sweet elixir of life to tempt and tease you, the burn in your throat that pops the eyes, opens the nasal passages, and gives you the will to FACE THE SURF ONCE AGAIN! You smile as your cowering “let’s-take-the-dogs-to-the-beach-it-will-be-fun” roommate pours you a second shot of Cuervo, and prays you don’t pummel her into the nearest sand dune.