April 3, 2016
Every morning the ocean seems different. For three weeks the wind and rain pounded the coast, making it difficult to get groceries and other supplies. But the ocean was still beautiful, the waves lifting up over the rocks in stunning displays. The ocean and I are filled with the same inner spirit. We get tired of continuity.
The winds died down and the sun smiled. The ocean’s surface became flat and shiny. Driving an automobile proved tricky because there were so many places to admire the scenery. It was difficult for me to keep my eyes on the road. Cars full of onlookers filled parking spaces. Hikers, bikers, strollers, were out drinking in the sun. I took a short walk to breathe the fresh air and enjoy the rays. Calla lilies, camellias, and ice plants with purple flowers basked on the sides of the cliffs. Everything was beautiful.
Today the ocean continues to call me and again it is showing another facet. Fog is drifting in, softening the ocean’s appearance. I am soaking in these different phases, my heart preparing to write poetry or a description of this gray-green world.
Why does the ocean fascinate me so? Is it because the ocean has distracted me away from my Parkinson’s fears and my aches and pains? I took my medications and the cramps in my legs have disappeared once again. I am a little bit sleepy so I won’t drive until I’m fully alert. In the meantime there is so much to enjoy. Isn’t life grand?