the ocean

it seems cliche to talk about the ocean. i'm not well read in poetry, but it seems like half of what i have read is about the sea. it's an icon, so ingrained that you can use it as a literary device without even thinking about what the ocean really is.

but after climbing over the hill of the last sand dune, i can't help but gasp. it's so...endless. the world seems big again. the endless plane of water, accented by a waft of salty air, seems almost surreal. i'm in love.

then there's the pure power. even small waves, if they hit you off guard, can knock you to the ground. each roll of the surface crashes with a rumbling splash. their influence is especially evident when you remember that over centuries (which are mere blinks of the eye when compared to the age of the earth), these waves turn monstrous cliff sides into the minuscule grains of sand that you can never quite get out of your shoes. it's amazing.

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