THE LURE OF THE SEA

I was called again, yesterday. Called to stand at the edge of the largest body of water on the planet—the Pacific Ocean. I even like saying the name—I’m in awe of it.

To get to the sea from where I live, you first must cross over the coastal range of mountains and through miles of old growth redwood forests. The western sides of the mountains settles slowly down to a flat sort of plain before the cliffs drop off abruptly into the Pacific. The view of the ocean always comes as a surprise. I haven’t traveled the road enough times to know exactly where I’m going to have the first glimpse. So it is always a unique moment with the sea always being unexpectedly beautiful.

Yesterday, it was rough, as it was the last time I was called to look. There were white caps on the top of every wave and when I drove over to the very edge of the cliffs I was surprised at how tall the waves were. Maybe because it was a sunny day, the big powerful waves seemed out of place—like they should’ve been part of a dark swirling storm.

But when went to get out of my truck, the wind was so strong I had to fight to push open the door. The wind was blowing from the northwest so I chose to let it push me to the south along a path running along the top of the cliff. Coming back, I was forced to turn my cap around, facing the brim around to the back so the wind wouldn’t blow it off my head.

It was very cold, with the wind coming off the water. But I felt it was necessary to walk along the shore for awhile—to breathe in the Pacific.

I was happy afterwards, to head back inland to the other side of the mountains where the air is warmer and the wind less strong. But sometimes I just have to go to where I went, to stand on the top of the cliffs and be in awe.