I heard the sea call to me, and like a faithful servant, I come.  Date palm fronds reaching out in a wide circle partially obscure my view of the long stretch of beach as I perch upon a bench above the sea.   Otherwise, my view is unimpeded to the sea and beyond.  Though the tide is low, the waves are quite high and break loudly.  The far view is flat and goes to a fog bank on the horizon waiting its time to creep in.

But the calm and flatness of the sea is an illusion.  So much is happening within its depths.  There are whales, dolphins, and fish even within the small portion of sea I can see.  I know that seals and sea lions are also living within my view.  Black-clad swimmers bob expectantly with their surfboards.

Thousands upon thousands of shells house a myriad of sea creatures.  Within the waves I can see, there is a swatch of algae and seaweed.  Although I cannot see it, spread throughout the water is the pollution of nitrates, phosphates, infinite and permanent beads of plastic remains, and DDT that is slowly leaking from the barrels dumped into the sea many years ago when DDT was banned. Sad, so sad.  The sea has become a wastebasket, a gigantic toilet bowl, a mix of unsea-like stuff.

The sea is powerful beyond our paltry human imaginations.  Intermingling, infinitesimal drops of saline and fresh water are changing the composition of the sea.  Climate change is in the air, and in the sea below.  This small section of sea, connected to so many other sections of the sea, responds to many forces.   Humans and tectonic plates are only part of them.  The sea has no morality as shown by the rush of the tsunami in Japan less than a year ago.  Only luck saved those that survived.

I walk to my favorite part of the beach to see sunsets.  It is like meeting a precious old friend again.  The hummingbirds are filling up on the flower nectar, the birds are standing like sentinels on their accustomed rocks out from the shore, the sun makes a sparkling path between it and the cliff where I stand and watch.

But only minutes before the sun can set, at some invisible cue, the fog bank does not creep,  but rolls in quickly.  Within a couple of minutes, all is obliterated by the fog — no sun, no moon, no islands, no rocks.  It has changed moods, preferring to hide from human eyes.  Only the sound of the waves and brief moving  bands of white froth tell us the sea remains.  The drama of the sea never disappoints me.

By the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea.  There is no more majestic, mysterious, unpredictable, and strangely inspirational place on our earth.  It is a strange comfort to know that no matter how much we abuse it, the sea will remain long after humans are only an unpleasant memory in a speck of time.

Comments?? E-mail Suellen at ZimaTravels.com

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