Ocean Dreams
Today I am missing the salty, light-turquoise bath of the Florida Atlantic. For nine days, I became part of the landscape on a beautiful stretch of beach by Jupiter Island...
Here come the schools of mullet fish; sparkling and shimmering their jeweled bodies, the sun showing off their shiny treasures as each wave crests...there must be a wahoo or a snook close by in chase, herding them like a watery cowboy through the pale blue depths.
Overhead, the pelicans swoop in low and dive for a quick snack, and then continue their patrol of the undulating shoreline. Sweet little black bird skitters above us at the same time each day...his busy black beak squawking, telling us wild tales of his day out and about.
The palm trees stand tall and proud against the blue sky and white puffer clouds; they know their place in this composition of flora, fauna, sandy, salty and sweet.
The waves are like liquid aquamarine, day after day, and unlike other years, never angry...always gentle and accommodating. They beckon, they thrill, they ask nothing in return… just the promise of release; of all that I can leave behind, all that weights me down…. I surrender... I am listening. I am letting go. I am feeling lighter.
As my head, face and shoulders slide under the slippery, blue liquid again and again; each time I feel more of myself coming home...and less detached from purpose. And, I watch my beautiful son coming home, too. The power of nature to heal and inspire is nothing less than holy...
Now I am nine again; with a gigantic, greenish-brown, ruffled length of seaweed tucked into the bottom of my new two-piece bathing suit. It trails for what seems like miles behind me, fueling the fantasy that has become perfectly real. Running along the white frothy churn at the edge of the ocean, the sand and tiny pebbles scratching the soles of my feet serve only to further verify the tactile reality of my transformation from mere mortal girl...to glorious sea dragon...
Arriving back home in Connecticut, I unroll a soft, white towel and out tumble my sacred souvenirs of the sea; a lovely assortment of seashells and worn coral, still sandy and bearing the dreamy scent of that same ocean…
Deep inhale…until next time...
"Ocean Dreams"
sacred thread words & image © Heather Rhodes at Studio Petronella