The Sunshine-Ocean Bender

I get these sometimes.  The Sunshine-Ocean Bender.

I get to craving the sand and the sun and the sea and this landlocked crap is not working out...especially mid-gray-winter.  Sometimes I feel like my soul is simply going to dry up in this desert air and with one touch, explode into a million dusty irreconcilable pieces.

Don't get me wrong...yeah, I make the best of where I am.  Yeah, I like Utah.  Yeah, I would definitely do some missing on the mountains were they no longer a part of my life.  Yeah, I married somebody from the desert and it comes with the territory.

Yeah, I know...it's my own choice, but shit...I miss the water.  Seriously. And "No." It doesn't matter how long it has been since I lived by the ocean because the missing of it never goes away.  You dampen it, but sometimes it comes on like a rage...like today.

There is nothing like the ocean.  Nothing.

I love water in all its forms but when you need the ocean...lakes don't make up for it, a river can't hold a candle to it and a swimming pool...well...it'll do in a pinch, but it ain't no ocean.  When that hunger for the salt water comes on you...well it's a bitch to shake.

So...that said...I need to figure it the "adult-word" out...well...I guess technically "Bob," I already used two adult words...but oh well.

Anyway here's the schtick.

I've been sick in bed since Friday after work, and the only reason I wasn't sick in bed on Friday was because I had to finish up some non-negotiable mid-year reports.  So that was my weekend.  And it's been crummy weather.  Rainy, which I love, but winter, which I don't.  My stuffy-snottacularness is finally dissipating, but the ragged cough that brings on an insta-headache is still with me in full force.
I am well enough that I dragged...drug...whatever...my stinking carcass out of bed and down to the computer so I could...Pin.

I'm totally addicted to Pinterest.  I would call it a problem, but I just don't quite see it that way.  What?? I don't.  It's more like...a special kind of...therapy...yeah...therapy.  ;)

Anyway, I have a board called Watergirl...and I put everything about the beach and the water and the sunshine and water-stormy-wonder on it.  I like to go there when I'm feeling stressed out, disgusted, unhappy, confused, or distracted...or I just need to be free.  It's a dreamy, delightful little place that gives me back a piece of me that doesn't get much satisfaction...ever.

Well, today---I came across a whole slew of delightful images and I have been a pinning maniac.  And I mean that...maniac...an absolutely, delighted, little sunshine, water-sprite-like, maniac.  And I also wrote a little piece about the ocean and my experience with it throughout the course of my life.

Raised in the ocean like a baby mermaid.

Raised with the sand and the sun and no shoes so little feet grew stocky and strong.

Raised with the squawking and diving and stealing of gulls.

Raised with the smell of the ocean, of sunshine, of beach and fish, of cigarettes and cigars and pipes in the open air, and Coppertone and Hawaiian Tropic, and chlorine, and coconuts and mangoes and potato chips and cheetos and tuna fish sandwiches and Oreos and Nutter Butters and chocolate chip cookies and grapes and apples, and the tickle of 7Up and Ginger ale…and the occasional crunch of sand in her sandwich.

Skin browned and shimmering as it dove in and out of the water and plunged up and down between the waves and bobbed along as it rode them into the sandy shore.

A body that would delightfully float, sparkling with water and sunshine.

Digging toes and fingers deep into the hot sand until you found the cold sand untouched by the sun and a little damp from the night tide.

Digging ditches and holes and castles and moats, hauling water in a red bucket to make dripping sand castles for mermaids and fishes.

Eyeing the rising tide and wondering if you are close enough to fill your moat but far enough to not drown your castle.

Smiles with white teeth and rosy cheeks as eyes blinked the water out of their lashes.

Dancing with the shoreline running too and fro as the waves would chase and retreat ending with splashing immersion.

Hair streaked with sunshine and dripping with saltwater.

Fingertips edged with sand as they picked out little speckled shells and curved white rocks and sand-smoothed blue and green glass for pockets.

Feet stung with heat, speckled with tar, running across the sand, sinking and burning and splashing into the water to cool off.

Starfish. Jellyfish. Sand Dollars. Dolphins. Sea Lions. Whales.

Seaweed creepiness that grabs your legs and makes you squeal and pull your legs up and splash away to somewhere else.

Waves that are fun.  Waves that are not fun.  Stomach sinking near misses.  Full hits.  Underwater tumbles with sandy shampoo jobs and saltwater nose enemas.

Sea breezes drying hair and caressing skin.

Eyes squinting and cast across the diamond sea as sun begins to set looking at the edge of the world and wondering about the beauty of the beyond.

Night comes on and the moon sits low on the sea, huge and pregnant and mystical.  She pulls the tide and pushes the sea.  The fires burn low and warm the toes, casting shadows all around.  Myth and legend could be real on a night like this.  Gods and goddesses could frolic near and magic is in the earth and being a human is a small thing in the universe.

Sitting on the glowing sand looking at the glimmering black and blue of the night sea and knowing that there are secrets loaded and deep that run through the ages.

On other nights when the moon is less prominent, leaning back and seeing the Milky Way scattered across the night and there are diamonds everywhere.  Diamonds are in the night and in the water and in her eyes and nothing was ever so beautiful or perfect as that precise moment of pure peace and wonderment as the waves rush in their eternal push and pull.  And she is home.