Sea glass

The seawater aroma tickles my nostrils with a tangy scent of salt. 

This.

This is where I belong. For me the ocean is more than a place, its the place I go to find myself. 

I think I love the ocean because it's calm, beautiful, and infinite. But also it's harsh, angry, and magnificent. And that what intrigues me.

I lay my starch white canvas on the smooth wood of my easel. For ten years I have lived by the sea, and for ten years I have come to this very cliff to capture its splendor, and for ten years I have failed. No words, artwork, or person, can describe the xanadu of the sea. 

Today I have come at night, making the water a menacing black color. And the mangata of the full moon on the still waves completes the picture. It looks like the moon is reaching out to the sea, and the waves are reaching to the sky, but never they touch. So instead the moon gives the sea a gift, its waves which it wears proud and high. Now if only I can somehow bring that view onto my canvas. 

My art teacher says I am skilled beyond my years. My family says I am the next Picasso. My friends say the paintbrush is like a wand in my hands. But never do I believe them, not until I can seize the ocean in my work. And until that day, I am nowhere near where I strive to be. 

At this time of night, I can barely make out where the horizon meets the sea, where the sky becomes the waves, where the stars become a reflection on the water. And that is perfect. The meltem caresses my face and plays gently with my hair. Like it's welcoming back an old friend. I do hope I qualify as a friend to the sea. I have seen the sea when it's stormy and wild; when it's quiet and serene; when it's dark and moody. And in all its moods, I see myself. 

With a small light, I can observe my canvas before me, a wash of blues and silvers. 

I sigh, it's never good enough. I am never good enough. Maybe it's time to give up. To accept that the ocean is wild and cannot be contained in a single painting. 

I love the sea. 

I like the sharp salty smell of the air and the vastness of the horizons. Bounded only by the vault of azure sky above. It makes me feel small, but free as well.

A tear slides silently down my face. It's warm and smooth. I feel as if I am losing a close loved one, as I pack up my canvas, my paints, and brushes, and prepare to say goodbye. Maybe I am being melodramatic, I know I will see the sea every day as I drive to and from school. The road runs right past it, but...

It feels like I am giving up a special time we had together, just the two of us. Maybe this is why I never married, I laugh silently to myself. Maybe this is why I could never commit. I loved something far beyond what I could love a companion, and they deserved more than that. They deserved a wife who would love them with her whole heart strong. But I could only give him half, probably more like one-fourth. So sorry, David, Henry, Tyler, Mason. All the people who loved me that I couldn't return the love to. It truly wasn't you, it was me.

But now I know I can not tame the sea. It isn't mine to tame. It never was, and never will be. It belongs wholly to its self, all the days long.

I am sorry I failed you, but your beauty will have to be described by someone else. I am not skilled enough. I want people who have never been to the ocean to look at my work, and feel like they are there, feet in the sand; hair filled with saltwater; and their nose full of your briny scent. And I can not do that. Slowly I creep towards the edge of the cliff, never have I been this close before. There is a good foot remaining before the drop-off. What if I jumped? I am not gonna, the rocks below would crush me in seconds.

Beneath my feet is 85% of uncharted waters, undiscovered mysteries of the ocean depths. Our advanced society still can't produce the equipment needed to walk along the ocean floor, and not be crushed by the pressure. God has given us many splendid gifts, leaving discoveries and journeys around every corner. From the heavens to the ocean floor, we are left to explore. 

The crack echoes in the silent night, causing me to jump in alarm. What was it? An animal, a person? 

And then I am falling.

 Rushing towards the black waters. 

I only have time to expect pain. As little rocks from the crumbling cliff patter against my exposed face. But no pain comes. Just the cool sensation of water, rushing over every inch of my body besides my face. I can still breathe but the rest is submerged in the ocean. I gasp as a cool voice whispers in my ear.

"We can not kill one that has loved us so beautifully."

"No, no we can not, but what shall we do with her then?"

"Take her with us, please," the last voice sounds like a child, as the water wiggles over my body like one as well. 

"Shh mist, the grownups are talking. Now get off of the human girl," I blink in astonishment. Was I dead but just hallucinating from lack of blood? No, I didn't feel dead. But how does a dead person feel?

"All right, we will take her with us, she deserves to truly see us." All the voices are different, but all of them sound watery and are coming in and out of focus like the tide drawing near than far. All of a sudden I am standing above the water. I feel the waves tickling the soles of my feet, my flip-flops having vanished. When the water rises up, and there stands a small crowd humans. Well, not humans, they're clear, and their skin seems to be moving. 

"Well human," Says the one closest to me, who seems to be a girl. "You wished to see us as we really are, and this is us, my name is Rain. Who are you?"

"I am- I am um. Mia," I can barely reply.

"That's a pretty name," a small figure darts in between the others, "I am mist." It's like a child. I nod, my throat has temporarily closed.

"Well now that she knows where here, what do we do with her?" Says a deep grumbly male voice. 

The small child giggles, "and that one is Hudson." Mist reaches out for my hand, and I let her take it. It's cool and I can feel the water rushing against my skin.

"We will take her with us, maybe she can protect us from the dark clouds." 

"the-the dark what?"

"Sorry," Rain replies, "Humans call it oil, you have infected our waters with it and killed many of our kind."

Several wave people grunt in response to Rains statement.

"Oh, that wasn't me. Well yes some humans do dump trash and oil in the ocean, but not all are bad," I say.

Rain simply grunts. 

"Well take you with us." Then they're gone, they sink into the water and I am left standing above it. Alone. 

"Rain? Mist? Hudson? Where are you?" Out of the water, a wave rises above me higher, higher, and higher. When it falls. It crashes against me in such force that I am dragged under. Deeper into the ocean, farther than any man has ever gone before. To the place of my home.

I want to age like sea glass.

Smoothed by tides but not broken.

I want my hard edges to soften.

I want to ride the waves and go with the flow.

I want to catch a wave

and let it carry me to where I belong.

I want to be picked up and held gently

by those who delight in my

well earned patina and appreciate the change

I went through to achieve that beauty.

I want to enjoy the journey

and always remember that if you give the sea

something breakable, it will turn it into

something beautiful.

I want to age like sea glass.

I want to be taken home.