growing up on the plains of texas, i was afforded brilliant sunsets that dominated the sky at the horizon which was framed by a flat praire as vast as the ocean. i never saw the ocean until i was about 20 years of age, when i saw the gulf of mexico from the shores of galveston...
it was an inspiring sight, and when i went to new york for graduate study, i made friends with the atlantic ocean from maine to florida, always finding ways to spend some time at beaches in maine, provincetown, new york city and the outer shores of the carolinas (which may gave been my favorite place to connect with the ocean...)
the ocean provided a sense of source, a relentless presence that whispered and roared, and the message seemed to be that of pure existence, unfolding in a ceaseless dialogue of wind and sea...
the thrill of the sand beneath my feet, my feet pressing into the sand with footprints shaping a journey that would soon vanish with the tide... connected with the primary force of being, as though the shore was a pathway to the cosmos... time, rather than an inevitable thrusting forward. was more like the back and forth pulsing of the ocean, an ebb and flow that made an elastic texture of the past and the future...
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