All Rileyed Up

See?

I was on my way to the post office and I almost swerved off the road when I caught sight of the water. Wow. The ocean was angry, my friends. Think of any synonym for the word untamed. Yeah. It was that too. I almost turned around to go home and get my camera and then I thought, what am I doing? It will take me 20 minutes to go to the post office and mail everything and then I can go home and get my camera. It’s not the likely that the water will look any different in 20 minutes.

So I went to the post office, did my business, narrowly avoided a collision with a not-so-youthful skateboarder on the sidewalk, went home, grabbed my camera and my video camera, and then drove back to the beach. The parking lot was full of gawkers just like me.

I had initially thought to myself, why is everyone just sitting in their cars? I was going to let the kids out and run along the sand while I videotaped, however when I opened the car door, it became apparent: cars are far too comfortable and resilient these days. The wind was so loud I could barely hear the sound of the waves crashing. I saw several birds try to fly against the wind and get blown back. And the sand, oh the sand. I can’t believe my glasses didn’t break. Or at least chip.

Anyway, I made the kids sit in the car while I videotaped said ocean. I also drove around to two of the bluff viewpoints and took some high ground shots of the water. It was truly amazing. Even though I scribbled pages upon pages in my journal, I have trouble describing exactly how it felt to look and listen to the water, the wind, the sand, the rustling fronds of the palm trees. I thought of this line from The Awakening by Kate Chopin—

“The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clearing, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in the abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation. The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.”

I always thought this line could only allude to a serene and calm body of water, that the turbulence of a windswept ocean had no place in the soul. Maybe it’s because I’m still going through the post-holiday stress, but the stormy ocean spoke to my soul yesterday and did much for my mental stability. Certainly more than any calm body of water. This morning, when I walked the dogs, I glimpsed the ocean and the waves were missing all the signs of white water, there were fewer ripples and rolls. The wind was gone. In its place were tons of fallen palm fronds and the feeling that an incredible amount of cleansing had just taken place.

And then I picked up the dog poop and went home (you weren’t expecting something serious, now, were you?).

What are you looking at, butthead?