The Sea is Our Mother
Lori and I have have been out swimming every day of our vacation. We’re both golden brown, and my hair is turning “summer blond.” I can feel the grime of work and the city leaving me, and the peacefulness of the North Fork flowing in.
Some days we swim at Klipp Beach, and others at Orient Point. We hike down the beach until we have a place all to ourselves. Then it’s time to peel off the t-shirts and shorts and wade into the bay.
One thing I love more than anything is to float among the waves and feel myself gently rocked. The feeling of being held by the sea always brings to mind a comment I heard from one of the Hike Maui guides during a snorkling trip.
Judy and I had a dawn hike over the lava fields to reach “The Fishbowl.” The Fishbowl is protected from large predators, so there are schools of bright fish all over and you can relax and not worry about tiger sharks. I remember telling her how wonderful I felt swimming there-an early sun in the sky and the water sparkling all around us. “The sea is our Mother,” she said.
Yesterday when I was out for a swim I stopped and floated with my arms outstretched. I imagined God like the sea-so unpredictable, but so comforting and familiar, too. “God is our Mother”; the “Sea is our Mother.” The two are so interchangeable when I am lying in their hand.
