I listen to the roar of the waves crashing on the rocky sand. The longing the water has for the land, and the longing that I have for the water are equally as passionate. I watch the stormy sea churn, turning up gravel and underwater flora. The salty air cleanses my lungs as I walk along the rocky beach. The smooth, rounded rocks underneath my bare feet are cold and hard as the gelid water kisses my toes. The sky is a cloudy grey and the wind viciously whips through my hair, creating a tangled mess of curls and ocean air. Staring out upon the area where the sky kisses the sea, I am filled with a warmth that combats the wintry elements around me. The water and its ambiguity fills me with a sense of tranquility, even with its disorder.
The stark contrast between the water and the sky is almost as pleasing to the eye as it is to my heart. An invigorating wave rivets through my spine as I feel the cool breeze caress my skin. The ocean air envelopes me like an embrace from a family member who is now long gone. I feel their presence with me as I reminisce the times we spent on the skiff, bounding across the Bering Sea that now sits in front of me. After being lost in thought for some time, the tide reaches up and touches my toes, bringing my mind back into the present. The chill of the rocks beneath my feet have almost numbed them, but still I sit and listen to the constant rumble of the sea. I hear the calls of seabirds and watch otters navigate the wild, swirling waters. The ocean soothes my heart as well as my soul. I find comfort in the unpredictability of what the water will do.