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The Ocean

Not long later, he thought of one of his favorite places. He could spend days there, and had. The spot overlooked the ocean and he had perched on it and watched the waves and felt the wind. Missing that, he climbed in his car and drove until he reached the coast.  When he arrived it was like seeing an old friend. He had always loved the sea, the sound of the waves, immersing in the vastness of it. He had been drawn to water all his life.  

The boy watched the surf roll in from his favorite spot for several hours, then said, “Ocean, I’ve missed you. You’re like an old friend. I recently spoke to the wind and now I’m here to see you.” 

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” said the ocean. He walked out into the waves, and when the water was over his hips he let it pick him up and carry him, floating. As he floated, all his thoughts melted away and he felt comfort. 

“Why do you bring me so much comfort?” asked the boy. 

“You know why,” said the ocean.  

“I do?” 

“Yes. Close your eyes and float.” 

“Should I listen?” 

“What would you be listening for?” 

“I don’t know. The wind told me to listen.” 

“I’m not the wind.”