ocean

All posts tagged ocean

Autumn Beach

Published October 19, 2021 by Naomi Rettig

The wind styling my hair like a punk rocker,

Seagulls shouting to be heard over the waves,

Nature’s colours blending seamlessly

From summer green to autumn gold.

The aroma of the ocean, salty minerals

Woven with wafts of seaweed.

Seaweed pods looking like alien sacs,

Drifting in on the tide to take over the world.

A myriad of sea snails suckered to rocks.

How do they breathe in and out of the water?

The chill of the water tickles my toes,

And I squeal like a child.

I watch the brave swimmers ignoring the cold,

Heads bobbing like Halloween apples in a bowl.

Dogs dash along the beach, excited to play.

Some stay closer to their humans while some run free

Without a worry in the world,

Enjoying shifting sand beneath their paws

And the fast wind on their faces.

Ears flapping, tails wagging.

Listening to chit chat as people pass by,

Imagining their stories in this book of life.

Watching a gardener tending to the plants,

The fishermen bringing in their catch,

The ice-cream seller hoping for a sunny day,

The seagull waiting for the ice-creams to fall,

A dog waiting to fetch an unthrown ball.

The waves tumble over each other in hypnotic rhythm,

They scramble to stay on the beach,

The tide pulls them into the ocean,

Creating mightier, powerful swells.

This is a magical place to get lost in moments.

To recover yourself

When you didn’t know you were hidden.

I really must go now.

But just one,

One, final look out

To sea.

Leap

Published February 17, 2019 by Naomi Rettig

Sat against this rock I am hidden from the world. Invisible and insignificant.

Facing outwards, I hear the ocean caressing the rocks further below me, I see the lit lighthouse standing proud, alone but confident, defiant against the blackness of the unknown ocean stretching ahead of it.

Facing inland I see couples illuminated by candlelight through the restaurant picture windows, laughing, smiling, touching. I don’t know which I’m more envious of, the people exchanging loving looks, or the ocean full of freedom and hypnotic hope.

I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone to look lovingly at me, to be their whole world in that moment and moments more. I am not worthy of another’s love. Even I don’t love myself so how can I expect it from another. No one could find me special, wonderful, their guiding light. I will never be someone’s lighthouse, someone’s restaurant gazer.

I will be the lone rock sitter, the solo sea starer, the self-placed exile. I long to be with someone special, as much as I long to leap into the ocean, to float away from pain. Maybe I should take that leap, find the lighthouse for me.

Why am I so scared of sitting in that window? The remote sea seems less terrifying to me. I have a blackness within, it spreads and dims my vision. It smothers my clarity at times. At times I don’t know if I’ll leap when my dark secret self swirls deep. The sea speaks to me, it says listen to me, follow me, join me, stay with me.

I close my eyes as wind joins waves in beautiful orchestral crescendos.

Inhaling salted air, I breathe life into me.

Today is not a leap day.