To stand at the edge of the sea is to escape into the endless blue beyond. The world is drowned out by the unending cycle of crashing waves. It’s a symphony of whooshing followed by the tumbling of small rocks, one over the other and the fizzle of whipped water that slides back into the ocean.
It is a sadness and a freedom to see the infinite blue, to barely make out the separation between the water and the sky. Unprotected by any known landmass, any that can be seen by the naked eye, that is, one may feel uneasy and exhilarated. One may feel like they will fall in and be lost to the ocean forever. Until one remembers just how far your feet would have to go to truly be carried off into the deep end.
The cold water curls around the toes, chilling them to an almost painful numbness, then leaving them alone again just for a second as a new wave takes its place. It’s easy to accept and be thankful for this pain, for the sunset is brilliant with color, and the cold water is unlike anything ever seen before, and the ache is a sign that you are alive. You are here.