* waves

Growing up on an ocean gives one certain advantages. In my case it was the warm Indian Ocean that surrounded  the town of Fort Dauphin, Madagascar, where I grew up. So unlimited swimming year round. While I didn’t fish in the ocean there were those who did, some from shore, others from dug out <<lakana>> (canoes).

While I loved swimming, what I enjoyed even more was watching waves come in. Who knew how far they’d traveled or what they’d encountered along the way?! Sometimes very big, crashing on the reefs and rocks which surrounded the peninsula we lived on with enough force to make the ground hum. Sometimes as still and calm as glass. Mostly somewhere in between. Always coming in, running up the beach, making the sand glisten, erasing your footsteps. In a way a sort of tick-tocking of an ocean that seemed almost alive.

I miss it. Deeply.