Not sure when the next update will come. I may do some writing while in BC, or I may wait and do it when I get back. It all depends on how busy stuff is and how much quiet time there is and such. So next update could be just about anytime between June 12 and June 28. Something will definitely be out by the 28th.
With that, a shorter story to go with the last update.
How to Tell Your Friends
People around here just don’t get it. You know who you’re dealing with when you discuss the things you miss about home. The ocean... the sea... I miss the sea.
With that, some... people I naturally get drawn to... nod with a shimmer in their eye. They say something like “it must be amazing”. Or “I love having summer vacation by the ocean.” They appreciate that there’s something special about it. And it makes me feel privileged to have lived by it for so long. A vacation gives you a glimpse... but all vacations simply create an event. Part of what’s special about the sea comes with the non-event of it. When you just happen to drive by it on a routine trip.
It’s these trips that show how the sea is always there, co-existing with us, sharing the day with you and me. Those people who understand why one would miss the sea have a subconscious knowledge of all I’ve spoken of here. Even without knowing it, they realize the what the sea represents, how it’s big and mysterious.
Then you have those who simply don’t get it. If you tell them that you miss the ocean, they don’t share in your sense of loss. They don’t comprehend the mystery. Instead, they try to suggest replacements for you. They try to equate the magic of the sea with that they have experienced. They tell you that you’re within driving distance of a lake or river.
For these people, they believe you’re simply missing a body of water. They believe if you can get somewhere where you can remove a shoe and slip a toe through the coolness, that’s good enough.
These people don’t have a sense of mystery. They don’t see the world for how big and powerful it is.
A lake can be entertaining and appealing. Some lakes can bring a sense of mystery with them as well. Loch Ness leaves you to wonder what surprises may lie beneath the surface. But, by in large, a lake or river is a pleasant feature... not an awe inspiring one.
Standing at the edge of a sea, you look out and get grabbed by the size of it. From Newfoundland, even with a telescope, you wouldn’t be able to see Ireland because of the curve of the earth. You know something is big when the earth’s curve comes into the though process.
Looking out to the sea is like looking up at the stars. It’s never ending.
There is the history of the sea. Knowing that the cliffs you stand on are the same cliffs explorers first saw after weeks, or months of emptiness. You feel as though the ghosts of famous explorers are about to drift through the fog. Vikings, Spaniards, the British and French... exploring their world. A world that’s no different than what you look out at in the present day.
The sea is alive. Almost literally. The waves cresting on the shore, the swell that eases as far as the eye can see. The wind blowing across it. It’s as an animal, breathing.
And anything can be down there. Beneath the waves and into the deep. A graveyard for generations of sailors, warriors, explorers, slaves. Rich and poor, peoples of all faiths and cultures. There are members of virtually every race and culture of person through history, buried at sea.
Gorges that run deeper than the Grand Canyon. Mountains that are higher than Everest. And creatures bigger than dinosaurs... all are out there in the sea.
It is a bit of everything. Life, history, geography. Power and beauty. A weather creator and natural divider. How can anyone seriously compare it to a river?
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