I yearn to go to the ocean, specifically Beavertail. I want to have a picnic on the grass, smell the sea air, listen to the waves crashing against the rock, dip my feet in the water, look for little treasures in the small pools of water, and get sun-kissed skin (I love that smell).
Alas my Acrophobia (fear of heights) has altered to not being able to drive over bridges, particularly the one to get to Beavertail (Is that the Jamestown or Pell? I can never remember). While I can now go to the edge of my porch (we live in a third floor flat), I can not do bridges. If I didn’t have such a bad case of motion sickness, I’d like to have a boat.
Monday is a holiday in RI, VJ Day. Harry has it off. I think, weather permitting, we might go.
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),
It’s always our self we find in the sea.
Though inland far we be,
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither.
~William Wordsworth, Intimations of Immortality