CléaA feeling of hushed serenity washes over tepid sand, neither ebbing nor flowing with the jaded tide. A veneer of high cloud shields the sun from its golden rays, casting a uniform light over the vast oceanic vista; no shadows, forms or silhouettes are laid in its path. A seagull hovers over jagged edges of rock then settles on the slippery moss.
The scent of the sea floats in the whispering breeze, intermingled with the mangled seaweed washed up on the shore. The golden sphere orbits ever so slow before it retreats behind geometric rooftops.
Not long ago, a fierce and spectacular storm advanced from the horizon, eroding the outline, shifting sand and dunes, altering the smooth curve of the seascape. Gusty winds battered its coast then in the break of a yawning dawn brought bursts of vibrancy, heat and colour.
Hushed. Lulled. Muted.
Quietude. Peacefulness. Acceptance.
It bores me to tears.
Tags: cbmused
Shorelines are fascinatingly dynamic areas, as far as deposition and erosion.
Unfortunately, most days they just wash and swash imperceptibly and put you to sleep.
At least the rocks they leave behind are amazing.
When you’ve seen one serene scene, you’ve seen them all.
Chaotic fury on the other hand is a magnificence of its own. Never the same. Never a dull moment.
I have watched the “uncalm sea” and listened to the howling wind for three months now, and I’ve had enough of it! Today it’s a blue that you can’t put into words… it only looks like this at this time of year because of how the wind blows off the land in the mornings, and where the sun is in the sky. I can’t ever get bored looking at it. Ever.
Dosn’t it cycle though? Suddenly we can be swept up in a torrent that we never saw coming, and all of our attention and energy is focused on the waves crashing down and the buffeting winds lashing us, and in whatever spare moments we have, what is it that we often wish for?
Casey: The aftermath is often spectacular as well, when you compare pre and post a storm. Before the eye settles back to the mundane.
Kami: There’s serenity and there’s dull and muted boredom.
Gboy: Your sea sounds like it has magical qualities. I say that because I’ve always been drawn to the sea, as if I have a deeper connection with it.
Mahd: You are absolutely correct. Then why is it that when the calm is present, and we’ve longed for it during the storm that we find it boring and almost suppressive? Resignation is such a bore.
I wish I lived closer to the sea. The serenity of the waves is exactly what I need to de-stress.
I feel that same connection, and I can actually feel myself becoming weaker and slowly depressed if I am separated from it for any period of time. My Ancestors’ livelihoods depended on the sea, so I guess I should not be at all surprised.
Magical qualities? Undeniably.
Almost Loved: I know what you mean. I find the sea therapeutic in many ways. Even when I’m huddled in the car and it’s cold and wet outside.
Gboy: Wow… in the blood. I understand upbringing and location playing a vast influence. Needless to say, I feel much better in the summer months.
I want some of that magic as soon as the temps increase
.
I’m always tempted to say, “I know what you mean….” but then that sounds arrogant and I think, “But how could I?” I digress… I will say that I find it an odd and liberating sensation when I can survey something that is calm/steady and then decide, “It is time to shake it all up.”
Maybe a strong wind will pass through?
Look at you showing off your proximity to the sun and beaches. Now is when I think it’s appropriate to tell you I had a discussion with a Ducati owner last week. He owns three of them and pampers them like you do each blog post. Perhaps you two should meet.
Justin: This is it exactly. Calm and steady bores me at times; nothing like a bit of a breeze or a strong scent of the sea to make me feel alive instead of just existing.
Egan: Sun and beaches are a part of me that make me feel invigorated. A bit like your trees.
Pampers (Ducatis) like you do each blog post. Ooh… er… I don’t know which I like best, the thought of this man and his Ducatis, or your awesome phrase!
There’s no need to choose you know. I do love my trees, so that does say a lot about your character. Meow!
Egan: Upon further reflection, (read: coffee) I prefer your phrase. Words can be more powerful than a hot engine. Rawr!
So now it’s the coffee speaking? At night it’s the martinis eh? I like this Cléa. I know you like your hot engines, but I think you’re a bigger fan of words.
Egan: Um, yeah. As long as I remember not to swap morning for evening…
And you are correct. On all counts.
I find the sea calming yet powerful. I find the “extras” like the wind blowing so much I must hang on with all my stength to stay in the boat or waves crashing over the side with the intent of carrying me along for the rest of the journey to be exhilarating. They are also exhausting and don’t visit my part of the world as often now. Then again, I do have teenagers….
Thankfully I am a much better swimmer now. I don’t need that much excitement but still enjoy the occassional storm.
Dangergirl: I know what you mean by exhausting, then again I’d imagine with teenagers there would be remnants of crashing waves that made you a better swimmer.
Continual serenity under filtered skies bores me. Give me bright sunshine with a calm sea, and I’m happy. But no muted colours.
*sigh*
ohhhhhhhhhhh, to be near the sea!!!
I’m downright JEALOUS!
LB: I can’t imagine not living near the sea, as if something within me suffocates. Book that flight and we’ll spend time in contemplation