The Ocean The walk along the ocean has lessons to be learned. I arrived at the beach just as the sun was coming up over the horizon. I was the only person on the beach. The gate was locked at the end of the boardwalk to the beach. The post on the left of the picture was the right post of the stark white locked gate to the ocean. It was a little breezy and 57º and the waves were pounding the beach. It is a lonely but peaceful place. There were no footprints in the sand because the high tide had washed all evidence away, leaving in their place shells, logs, coconuts, seaweed, and wet smooth sand. The security lady came up to unlock the gate to the ocean, open Dawn to Dusk. As I walked down the beach, I noted that behind me, my steps were not in a straight line, although I thought I was walking parallel to the beach. Watching my meandering path reminded me of life. We start life as a blank slate, and from life to death isn’t a straight line. It has lots of detours, crossroads, paths, and sometimes a person wanders off the path to a goal before arriving there years later. Maybe the more important part of the journey are those times we wander off course. The roar of the ocean spoke of its power to destroy, but yet it had a calming, quieting effect at the same time. The waves broke over the sand, crashing, but smoothing into white foam, calmly retreating back into the sea. Over and over, the waves came in, depositing new items, taking with it anything in its path. There were rocks left behind with fossils of shells and sea animals. Makes you ponder how powerful that wave was that picked up a rock from the ocean bottom and planted it on the beach. Among the interesting items I found on the sand were coconut seeds. There was no coconut tree anywhere around, but there were the seeds, carried by the ocean and deposited on the shore. Maybe someone will take them far away, plant them, and another tree will be grown. Man is so small and defenseless against the ocean. The power, majesty and vastness of the sea are overwhelming. It reminds me that God’s creative power set this amazing world in motion many eons ago, and the tides are still ebbing and flowing, man is still sinful, and actually only nature has remained constant. If it weren’t for humans, the beach would be pristine. There were plastic forks and spoons, cigarette butts, pop cans, shoe pads all left behind by uncaring tourists. I don’t know why I feel the call of the ocean. Maybe it’s because we almost lived on the waters of Rock Creek as a child. We spent all our free time at the cabin, in the boat, waterskiing, fishing, or just sitting watching the water lap against the bank. I love the beach. Actually, lakes, rivers, and even ponds will suffice when I’m feeling the need to be near the water. Later, when it was crowded with young families, running children, and babies putting their toes into that cold water for the first time, it still spoke of life. Sometimes things are calm and running smoothly. Other times, things are chaotic and filled with noise. Laughter, shouts, and private conversations were going on later in the day. Life has lots of folks who put footprints on a person’s life. Some are deep; others shallow. Some are new; others old, almost faded. Some overprint others. Misses Chamberlain and Robinson and Sister Mary Francis probably shaped my career more than any three people in my life. They took a shy, unsure only child under their wings and taught me that each person is an individual in God’s eyes, and it’s OK to walk to a different drummer. As the sun came up, first one or two early risers appeared. Then, a few more people came. As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, the reflections on the water became more intense. Like other things in life, sunrises and sunsets are fleeting. They don’t last long. Once the sun is up, it’s just a sunny day. There are times when I crave separateness - from everyone. The beach on this particular morning provided that. The only sounds were of the birds swooping in to see if any food had been washed up on the sand and the roar of the crashing waves. Being the only person on the beach at the time was relaxing. Walking along the sand, feeling the ocean spray from the waves that crested higher than I expected, I could imagine how pleased God must have felt after he created the Universe. The birds of the air and the fish of the sea were part of the balance of nature. The birds were being fed by their instincts in finding food. The little birds that were pecking into the sand weren’t threatened by the bigger gulls swooping in for larger breakfast fare. There were also others out early to get some food for their table. They were setting up their lines for the day’s fishing. I saw lots of lines, but I never saw a single fish caught - at least my humans. The birds were doing a better job of it. They came about 9:00, not sunrise. By the time they arrived, the beauty of the sunrise was gone, and lots of footprints had already walked the beach. I noticed that the joggers didn’t look at the scenery, birds, ocean, or other people. They seemed to have an inner focus of a goal they had in mind rather than the path to get there. Maybe that’s the way we get sometimes -- so goal-oriented we forget to notice the scenery on the way there. Life is not a destination, but a journey. We meet those who leave footprints on our lives as we travel. We aren’t an island, living in isolation. How many people have I left footprints in their lives? All our children and grandchildren, relatives, students, co-workers, parishioners, friends, neighbors, and those I can’t even remember. I know sometimes they would be heavy footprints, perhaps stomping on someone’s self-worth. I hope some were soothing and helpful, too. I’m not one to stop and think before I act sometimes. Maybe part of the draw of the ocean is its routine, its fresh, clean, unchanging dependability. High tide comes on a regular cycle. My life is often more like the hurricanes that attack the coast - unpredictable, chaotic, undependable, and messy. The lessons of the ocean are many. Thank you, God, for the opportunity to be on the beach at sunrise. If the ocean can handle its assigned tasks, even pick up fossils from the ocean bottom, and deposit them onto the sand, then I, too, can handle whatever life throws at me. The sands are resilient, easily shifted, according to whatever winds, water and footprints are cast upon it. Whose footprints will be coming today? How will I cope with them? Will they leave a heavy imprint or a slight one? Will I remember what the ocean and its beaches have to teach? ~ © Petey (Petey258@aol.com) ~ Photograph by Tom (TomWYO@aol.com) March 2004 BACK This is a LINKWARE webpage. You're welcome to use it providing you keep it intact and don't mix it with other graphics. You may, however, use a different title and different text. Be sure and include my Marilyn's graphics' button and a link back. http://www.geocities/writersearlyspring2004/ All poems and short stories on this website have a copyright. If you wish to use one or more on your website, contact the author for permission. If you enjoyed this page, check these out: Cornbread Love Original Humor Temptation Click the image and visit my new website. And.......for many others, click the link for HOME. Home: Writers' Early Spring 2004 Index