Constant.

With each shade in God’s sky, a new day arises. Every morning I walk the water’s edge anticipating what He has planned out for my day. Over the years, I have learned to start my morning this way; praying as the sand pushes from my feet and the ocean water cascades over the footsteps I have left behind. I always try to gaze at the horizon, trying to capture every moment of the show God has portrayed. With each passing minute the clouds move and the colors change and swirl. I have to be careful not to miss one second. 

Although, I could stay on this sand forever, my career calls my name and pulls me from the beach. Throughout the eight hour grind, I reminisce on the sunrise that started my day. After the rat-race of a day I come back to my place. I come back to where I need to be. 

 This is a place where I feel at peace, a place closest to God. He gave me this place, He gave me this constant, to give me peace and keep my faith. 

First Sunrise

The waves rolled and crashed along the shore. The sun peeked up from the horizon, causing the island to stir. The sunlight slowly cascaded and stretched across the white sand, giving an iridescent appeal. Shells scattered along the sand became visible,  while small crabs started back for home, not wanting to be seen. The first sunrise while on vacation at the coast, was something that could only be cherished. In this exact moment, this place and point in time, was where all of life’s troubles were thrown to the tradewinds; Content washes over and bliss settles its way in. God himself painted this masterpiece  bringing contentment and satisfaction to those who were lost in the rat-race. God’s simple act of nature moves so many with a strong, yet subtle impact.

The Only Way of Life

There is a place that God himself created for the laid back and the worn down. Whether it is along the coasts, on the islands, or even in the secluded lagoons, there is a place where only a special type of person can enjoy life to its fullest potentials. These places carry with it a little magic that gives its permanent and temporary inhabitants a sense of fulfillment with the world. Most people can never experience the wonders that this lifestyle carries with it, and to those I raise my glass in hopes that one day, while in the clouds, they’ll be able to experience these wonders they missed while on Earth.

A perfect explanation to this lifestyle cannot be relayed by message, only wondrously experienced, making these places so much more exhilarating and organic. Whenever I’m asked as to why I obsess over something such as a salty body of water, I can only describe it with a smile; it’s my way of life, the only way of life.

Ocean Perspective.

People from all walks of life come to me. Some run, some stumble, and some blissfully stroll the edge of me. I can tell you which ones are meant to be here, which ones have never left here, and which ones have never even wanted to come here. Everyday I create a scene, in the eyes of God, that would leave a pessimist feeling warm inside and lead an atheist to redemption.

I offer an oasis to some and an anchor to others, both literal and figurative. I’ve realized over my lifespan that for some I offer more than just a place to surf or swim, but a place to heal. I offer a place to find yourself again and I let you find new life though God. Not one person views myself the same as another. I find that I can describe that aspect inspiring and yet troubling all in the same breath. No matter what I am to some I am different to others. I scare some, encourage some, stifle some, and uplift some. I never do the same thing for one person as I do for another, and I’m content with that. I appreciate the career God has laid out for me and I never want to be anything more than who I am, the Ocean.

Ocean Senses.

The colors and hues swim in each eye.

The salt tingles each nostril.

The sands dust each hand.

The blissful pleasure ignites each tastebud.

The tradewinds calm each ear.

                                                 The waves soothe every soul.

Tantalizing Waves.

Rushing and pounding the shore with a tantalizing orchestra of crashing.  Enough to calm the storm inside and relinquish the fury that has been bottled. Giving direction to the ships and taking direction from the man in the moon. Waves.

Waves can deliver the chill down each individual vertebrae composing your spine. They deliver the ocean-made shells to the shore for all the locals and tourist to revel in discovering. Waves, can carry a power almost as strong as God himself and yet can be  as gentle as a small infant. These tantalizing works of nature can take your breath right from your lungs in amazement of their natural beauty. You’ll never experience anything like an ocean derived wave.

Salt kissed from the heavens above, they can bring your soul at peace in an instant. Waves are something that tickle the fancy of each of the five senses giving the ultimate experience of euphoria. Let waves take you to a place of bliss and never look back.

The Souvenir

He finally was able to pull her away from the ocean she loved, so they could explore the sandy town they were currently vacationing in.  She threw on the only nice outfit she brought with her and was able to put on a little eye catching make up, despite the fact that he always told her she looked good without trying.

They strolled along the salt eaten sidewalk  with the noticeable sting of summer on their checks. Just as always, they laughed and enjoyed their time together, soaking up the simplicity of their visit. Finally they made their way to the little town they passed on the way in. A warped wooden sign, decorated with a shiny, plastic swordfish, a few coral colored star fish, and some old trusty netting in the upper corner, hung proudly above the door. They walked in with their fingers intertwined in another, only to find wall to wall nautical riches. With widened eyes they explored every little trinket and dried sea creature, making sure they didn’t miss even a grain of sand.

She knew she had to discover the perfect treasure to always act as a symbol of this wonderful trip they took together, and he knew she wouldn’t stop until she found it. She stumbled upon starfish of all shapes and sizes, nautical stuffed animals, surf and boogie boards, and even the cutest ankle brackets she had to have that were embellished with beads and shells. Like every tourist infested shop it was filled with the usual tacky t-shirt you knew you would never wear, the bumper sticker with a witty saying, and even the real shark teeth that would cut you to the touch, but she still couldn’t find exactly what she had been searching for. She was happy with the dozen one dollar ankle bracelets she obtained, but she just couldn’t come across the keepsake she knew she needed. He sensed her discouragement, he was always good at that, so he led her to an area of the store that had been less examined by the years and years of out of town eyes. There in the dusty corner of the store lied a small hand woven wicker basket full of the tiniest, cutest little glass bottles that were filled with all kinds of oceanic treasures. They were accompanied with a small cork, holding all of its riches inside and a sterling silver, diamond-cut chain.

She prodded through everyone of them, making sure she found the most perfect one.  The very last one she got her hands on was filled with snow-white sand from the shore, a tiny aqua blue starfish, and  even tinier sea shells. The  trinkets inside this glass chamber that caught her eye the most though, were the small rose colored pearl,a minuscule dried sand-dollar, and what she thought was the smallest anchor she had ever seen. She knew this was what she had been searching for. With great pride she pranced to the well used counter to purchase her treasures. He knew by the smile stretched across her cheeks that she was content with her findings. When the total came he laid down a wad of sand dusted dollars and made that smile on her face stretch just a bit further. They chatted on the way back taking in the scenery and the whole way she clung to that souvenir,that was wrapped around her neck, in hopes that she could stop time and forever stay in that perfect moment.

Her Oasis

This was her place of healing, her oasis.

 

She strode along the damp sand letting the salt drenched air wisp through her sun kissed curls. Gazing at the waves gliding along the shore, she painfully reminisced on her past year. Alongside the man she loves, she knew he wouldn’t be able to decipher the salt water from the tears that streaked down her summer stung cheeks. The hurricane that raged through her veins, paired with a storm that reeked havoc on her soul, were finally calmed by the Atlantic.   The feeling of being at ease was something she had long forgot. This long sought after moment was something she would treasure forever. Not even the despair she had felt could erase this from her memory. She knew in her heart that salt life was for her, even though this trip was temporary, she knew she would come back to forever reside in the only place that she could feel at peace.

Letting her toes tickle the sand, she was mesmerized and lost her focus in the sun as it began to slip slowly into the Atlantic, changing the blue skies to a mix of crimson, violet, and peach hues. The palms swayed in the ocean breeze making their leaves create a rhythmic motion luring the moon into the sky. The bright colors slowly faded as a midnight sky took over. Unlike the small town she grew up in, the dark of night didn’t damper the island spirit, it kept it fueled. Even nautical creatures still scurried along the sand that was now iridescent with the previously welcomed moonlight. She soaked in one more picture perfect moment, wishing that she could forever stay in that point in time.

 

 

The Sky Painter.

I have the most wonderful career in all the world, a Sky Painter. More importantly, I have fulfilled my mother’s dream.

          I let my fingers slip under the special-made, woven fabric flap that held in my tool. The beautiful handcrafted paintbrush slid into my hand, perfectly fitting in my grasp. I noticed that my initials are engrained in the richly stained wood. With the very tip of my finger, running along the top, I felt the soft, yet sturdy bristles bend and quickly snap back into place. I was only told to create a masterpiece that would take their breath away. I searched below me, through the recently fluffed clouds, to see my mother, alongside my siblings, my loving boyfriend and other friends and family, crying over my loss.

         Before ascending to the sky, I was allowed to stay with them for a moment longer. I stood among them but not with them. I was an invisible bystander placing my hand on my loved ones shoulders, quietly whispering in their ears, that I was in a much better place now. Before God beckoned to me, I placed myself in front of my grieving mother to gaze into her reddened hazel eyes. I wrapped myself around her and I could feel her give into me, knowing I was there. Pulling away from her I watched as her eyes shot up from the decorated casket, searching for me. I wiped a single tear from her flushed cheeks, holding her face one last time before letting the beam of light pull me away.

        God knew that even though I was taken from Earth to be with him, I was not done dreaming. He had said he kept this job special for me. With a broad smile he asked for me to hand him back the paintbrush. Gingerly, I handed it back to him, not wanting to let go of my new treasure. He ran his callused fingers softly down the handle making it glow. Just below my initials were freshly burnt words that read, “The Sky Painter.” I proudly accepted my new tool back, figuratively signing the career contract God had laid before me.  With my eyebrow raised and confusion showing in my expressions he told me, “let your vivid imagination, I have given to you be the paint and let the brush do the work.”  I let a smile come across my face, giving him the inclination that I knew exactly what he had meant.

        Sitting upon a small cloud I waited for the right moment to catch the attention of all that survived me down below. With a wisp through my hair I turned to see God motion me forward, instructing me to begin. Kicking my feet as the cloud moved with the breeze, I touched my tool to the sky in front of me, making it dance beneath my bristles. The clouds puffed and swirled around me, tickling my face.  I knew I had to let my mother know I have assumed the position she had always talked about. I sculpted clouds that jet puffed across the sky, I let little holes pop up here and there to allow beams of light from the sun warm my mother’s face, and I let all the colors from my imagination stream into my paintbrush. I placed the sun above the horizon, allowing it to change the blue skies to crimson, peach, magenta, and violet hues, perfectly blending into one another.

My body laid to rest on the crest of a hill that over looked the salt kissed eastern coast, so I let the sun meet the waves as if they were fused together. I made the direct sunlight call to my mother bringing her to the beach to view my artwork.  With a few more tweaks and broad brush strokes I was finished with my mother’s painting. With a quick flight I was by her side sitting in the sand with my head on her slumped shoulder. She brought her hand to my face knowing  I was there and knowing that I had created this sunset with her in mind. I stayed with her until God called for me. With my lips pressed to her forehead, I held on for one more second as she brought her hand up reaching for me.  My wings began to take flight and I squeezed her weakened hand one last time. The sand sprinkled from my toes as I made my way to the clouds. I took my place by God to admire my work, sitting right next to him. We let our feet dangle over the edge of the cloud, blissfully enjoying the sight as midnight began to take over my masterpiece.