The sun just came up over the horizon. There is a quality to the light at the beach, during sunset or sunrise, that is not present anywhere else. I suppose there is science behind that, you know refraction, reflection, frequency and prisms. That kind of thing.
But, it is more diffuse, not as harsh. The only color that really pops is the blue of the sky, and how intensely blue but different it is from the ocean. There is a glow, a sort of warmth that comes through the light.
If you add to it the salt smell in the air, the smell that comes from uncounted trillions of gallons spreading beyond you to the horizon, straining the eye for as far as you can see, it is quite enchanting. It is my opinion that this is why so many come to the beach to retire. I think that the constant wind, the fact that you cannot walk quickly in sand, that waves never stop mumbling to you, that all this is what draws men to the shore.
Some men it draws out to the deep. I was one of those men. Those days are behind me now. I won't ever be a man that goes down to the sea in ships again. But, I will forever be a man that went down to the sea in ships.
If you have never seen the circle of horizon being nothing but deep blue, white capped water, if you have never watched the entire world move slowly up and down as your ship made way, if you have never watched the dolphin breasting alongside the bow, if you have never seen the albatross and the frigate birds living in the midst of a landless ocean, if you have never heard the howl of the gale, or felt the glory of the storm, you will struggle to understand the love of the sea that sailors have.
Just to be close to it makes me calmer. Hearing her constant conversation of waves and riffles and feeling her presence close, puts me at ease. I left my passion when I retired from the Navy. I was a carrier sailor. The thought of going out on a 30' short stack, to barely get beyond the sight of shore, to fish for fish I won't eat, does not fill me with desire. Getting on a sleek, streamlined, ghost grey behemoth of power and destruction, steering course directly to the wind and striking for either Cape with all good speed, that gets my motor running.
There is no play acting that conjures that feeling. I do not mourn the loss, I was blessed to have the time I did upon her waves, and to return, mostly unharmed, every time I set upon her. I saw things that other men dream. I did things that others cannot comprehend. I was fully and completely the man I was made to be by God, and did what I was called to do from above. I regret none of that time.
Nor do I regret leaving her behind. We were not to be forever entwined, and that was always true. She will stay forever that part of my life where I dared things I could not dream, and I saw things I could not fathom. But, it is a hard life, as the sailor to the sea. It is a life that makes you old, beats you, uses you up. It is a finite thing, and I came to my time of an end. And I left to find great challenges, great rewards, great friends and a world of love.
I am always happy to be back on her shores. I know the beauty and mystery and allure of what lies beyond her horizon. But, I do not seek it any longer, I do not feel compelled further. I am free to be the man I am, to know what I have known, to treasure it in my heart, and to make a life for myself and my family that benefits from that which I found along the way.
I love the ocean, I love the beach, and like any sailor, I love the sound of the waves, the feeling of the air as it rolls over the foam. I don't miss it, but I remember it fondly. I remember that time the Kraken nearly took us down to Davey Jones, but with a fork, a marlinspike, and a short length of line, we managed to win the ship free, and sail home a day early, with all souls on board.
The reality is much less believable than the tales, and the memories are keener here in the sea air. May Neptune give you favor, may you find fair winds, following seas and a clear white wake. All God's blessing on those that go down to the sea in ships, and those that toil on the land for God's good grace. It is a fine, soft morning here. Hope that yours is as well.
GLYASDI
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