I love the ocean waves and their ever-evolving constancy. spill, pour out, swell and recede, ebb and flow, forward and back. I love the way they recede from my consciousness and then suddenly swell back into my ears during quiet moments. I love their soft, soothing sounds.
And again, still, I can't write about water without thinking of its massive and terrifying destructive power, destructive potential. I feel that I must mention it, as though failing to do so would be dishonest or would show a dangerous lack of respect--would be asking for trouble. Maybe I'm afraid that if I let myself forget the danger I will fall prey to it again, or maybe I feel somehow that remembering might keep me safe.
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