The other day I walked down to the ocean, stepped past the rocky shore and the water hid my sandals as the waves lapped playfully around me. I walked knee deep out to my island, where I’ve never been except at low tide, and had the ocean racing around and around the edges, flinging drops up playfully to tickle, to caress. I haven’t felt that alive in a long time.
And as I sat there, with all of the world behind me and only the ocean in view, she began to sing, just for me.
I realized that the old tales of Sirens being evil, luring men to their deaths on the rocks was wrong – that the sailors gave themselves to the water gladly, with full hearts, just to feel wrapped in that sound.
to be wrapped in water — at least visually — (easier to breathe that way) is one of my favorite things!
happy to hear this tale of the ocean sharing her song
Thanks so much for saying so! And thanks for dropping by our little corner of the ‘net!
Love this. I'm heading out to the Smoky Mountains next month. To sit at the foot of a mountain and listen to rapids gives me the same feeling.
A wonderful gift to yourself! Enjoy!!
And thanks for dropping by!!
There is an old line- "How can I keep from singing?" The song, the call of sea or track is in us all who stop to hear it. She is, this earth, longing to be heard. What a delightful post- thank you.
A lovely old Baptist hymn it is, although I prefer Enya\’s version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RHt3ElEvHQ
Thanks for you!!