She Sea



She Sea


The sea sometimes reminds me of a moody animal. She was so bubbly and frothy this morning, but in a matter of a few hours, she had switched her temperament.  She had grown irritable with the hot sun and the people thrashing about her. Or maybe it was the wind that had brought on her chunky mood.

I feel the sea must be feminine in her flow and life giving possibilities. But her fury is feminine, too, although I can't explain why.

In the afternoon, her waters rushed–a confusion of confluent lines running in different directions. I feel dizzy watching her pulling while pushing forward. She laps at the shore at the same time as giving me lip for landing my feet in her, soaking me up to my calves. She could have crashed her waves over me and thrashed me under, but instead decided my wet shorts were enough warning.

The currents curved and reached and raged, curling and foaming at the mouth while slamming down the brown algae hidden below her green. I had the sensation she wanted to wreak havoc but fought her instinct by folding into and under herself...


Photo: Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/pexels-2286921/?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1835846">Pexels</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com//?utm_source=link-attribution&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=image&utm_content=1835846">Pixabay</a>Text: Kristen Mastromarchi

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