The boat was rocking so bad you could run up and down the door frames. People like to imagine the ocean as being blue and beautiful. I used to imagine it that way. When you’re that far out at sea the water is black. Day or night it is black and deadly looking, like obsidian in slow motion. Black as far as you could see. The boat was small, anyway, and we were going side to side like the boat was plastic. Everyone was grabbing their survival suits. Some were crying and some were scribbling down their wills. I laid in my rack and drank from the flask. Let them fire my corpse.

a spectrum of smooth to avalanche

someday you will see the place

at the edge of the ocean where the

earth drops off and you will understand the true meaning

of endless

there is a continuum between

sea and sky

which can be nothing but breathtaking

underneath you are aware

of depths you could never comprehend

dip your toes into an independent universe

contained upon our earth

we are witness to a glory

greater than the galexies

for the bottom of the ocean

holds its own stars

I've been living with it since I was born

The sea is calm during summer

I remember as a child chasing my playmate on the blue water

It gets rough at times when there is a storm

Got used to it though

In my eyes it's still wonderful

To look at

We even swam even when it's like that

It's great when the water is a little warm

And a bit colder wouldn't do harm.

What I missed now

I rarely dip on the sea water

I just don't feel like it

I can say the sea is a constant friend

The sea is a she, both bountiful giver and foreboding taker of life, a vast world of endless mystery to all who walk on land. She tastes like tears, sounds like thunder, and shape shifts into liquid mountains that can devour you in a single bite while giving you the ride of your life.

I walk along this golden, yellow sandy beach, the sky is a beautiful deep blue and I smile as I gaze about me at the pure serenity of my surroundings. I turn, and my footsteps in the sand show my route along the shoreline, my smile broadens into a grin of pleasure as I catch my shadow playing in the footprints.

To my left the beach rises gently and gives way to rolling dunes, I catch sight of some children playing further on as their shouts of delight carry to me on the warm breeze.

To my right the beach carries its gentle slope down to the shoreline, and I note the sound the sea makes as it rolls ashore, then falls back down the sloping sand. Far out a ferry boat laden with passengers announces its arrival with a blast from its horn, seagulls circle about it as they always seem to do, hopeful of food scraps tossed by eager hands.

It is warm.

I walk into the surf just knee deep, and marvel at how accepting this new world seems to be. I can feel the ebb and flow of water as it passes, and the smell of sea air takes me deeper until I am wading, waist deep and yelping at the delight of my abandon. Then, I know I am accepted and allow myself to fall forward and into it with a glorious freedom that exhilarates and brings forth my inner child.

I swim freely and dive to the sea bed and kick up the sand until it flails around me, then crouching, push to the surface and swim back to the beach.

Giggling, dripping wet and alive.

The oceans are vast. They are deep. Their contents are mostly unknown to us. Animals not yet seen by human eyes await to be discovered. The floors are covered in mountains larger than what we have on land. There are volcanoes, trenches, and abysses. They are empty in many places, being enveloped by the emptiness.

In order to see the sea, you must open your mind and heart.

But first, close your eyes and open your mouth.

Breathe in the salty air, and let it toss your hair around in the ocean breeze. Open your eyes, and let your eyes tear up as the intense blue of the sky and shine of the ocean fill your vision. The sun is shining and you feel your skin darkening with every passing second.

Then step into the hot sand, and let it burn the soles of your feet with every step you take. It's so hot, so you run towards the sea, that giant mass of water ahead of you. Let the rest of the world around you melt into oblivion as you run.

You stop at the shoreline, where the sand is no longer hot; instead, it feels like a grainy yoga mat. You look at your bare feet, and squeeze your toes tightly and let the brownish mush tickle you. Then you look out and see a wave of blue and white crashing towards you, getting smaller and smaller as the swell rushes toward your toes, splashing up at your knees.

The water is ice cold, and suprised, you jump backwards. You let out a squeal, and then laugh at your childish outburst just as another wave runs over your wet feet.

With every passing wave, the water is warmer. And so is your heart.

Can you see the sea?

Let's just say, Kansas puts the "Amber Waves Of Grain" in The Star Spangled Banner.

Towards the end of harvesting season, the wheat fields are quite beautiful if you catch them at that certain time at dusk, with the sun that perfect shade. And, with Kansas being windy, as I'm sure you know, the wheat really does look like waves.

By the way, Todo and Dorothy told me to give you their blessings.