The Ocean

Spent a whirlwind 20 hours at the shore. Old haunts. New storylines. But the sea still churns. And at 3am, I found myself wondering if staring out at the ocean is such a good thing. It's very lonely at such an hour. Very isolating. At once it's great and terrifying. I LOVE the beach and ocean...but depending on the hour and circumstance, some moments are more joyous than others. It's just so BLACK and huge. And the mind wanders, which is what crashing waves are meant to stimulate. But maybe the sound from inside is better than being the only human in sight on a pitch black beach. It's kinda depressing. And even scary. What if some lunatic were out there? Me and the lunatic meeting at 3am on a darkened beach post-Labor Day. Shudder. And yet I lingered long. Staring out at the black sea and up at the sparkling clear sky, bursting with twinkling stars. Wondering what was happening on those boats whose white lights I could see WAY out in the ocean. Couldn't fathom being so far out that late on a small boat. The air was very windy but very humid. Warm as soon as you got off the beach. More like early August. A wonderful September night...summer lived on. But the ocean, and the island itself...something sad. We're all so small in the grand scheme of things, and it all goes so fast. Same thing today with our surprise trip to my childhood haunts. Great, yet depressing. Wasn't I just 14? And wasn't this an uplifting entry? You'd never know I had a fantastic time. And no matter what I ever say, I DO so love the ocean and everything about beachy scenes. Maybe I shouldn't have written this; i'm very tired and not my sharpest. Oh, a final funny note -- I've only stayed in oceanfront houses twice in my life. Hotels, sure, many times...but houses are different. Last night was the second time. And the first time was exactly 10 years ago this week. YET again in my life...unplanned symmetry. May God bless Walhalla's Finest, The Hungarian, and The Appalachian Preacher.