The Cherokee Indians teach their young to listen….to the sweet song of the meadow, the even rhythmic sounds of nature. This resonates with me as I listen to the ocean waves here in Florida.
Beyond its sweet rhythm, the shoreline is a scene of raw nature. A marriage of wills between wind and water. I wonder if either could exist without the other.
I think of the wind as masculine and the water as feminine. I imagine a conversation between them….
Ocean Water says to Wind: “you’re so moody and aggressive….unpredictable, tossing trash around, smashing jellyfish into the shore, never cleaning up after yourself.”
Wind fires back: “You’re just jealous of my power.”
Water responds, “you’re like an annoying kid, restless, running around, throwing sand in people’s faces, freaking out the palm trees. Always making the universe react to you.”
Wind laughs: “Stop being so sensitive! You’re way too easy to rile up.”
After curling a wave into the shore, Water tries a new tack. “It’s so peaceful when you’re calm. We can all relax. People enjoy themselves swimming and walking along the shoreline or reading on the beach.”
He responds defensively, “Don’t you get sick of the same thing day after day, one monotonous wave after another. It’s so boring and predictable!”
She says, “You provide plenty of variety, switching your direction this way and that, roaring in cold fronts from the north, hauling in hurricanes from the south. You change so often, I don’t get the chance to feel my own power.”
He shifts and sighs, “You don’t understand the responsibility I have to keep things moving.”
Ocean pauses between waves and says, “Wind is in complete denial about the power of my tidal connection with the moon.”
Pssst…. if you’d like to comment, click on Literary Mileage above, then scroll to the end of the post for the comment section. I’d love to hear from you!