We sit in silence, the storm whipping across the windshield of the car. The ocean in front of us is alive with movement. It crashes along the cliff sides to our left and right and swallows the rocks caught in the middle of it. I have never been more scared and enthralled at the same time.
My mom grew up on the east coast. She would visit the ocean every chance she got, even now. It never occurred to her that I had never seen the sea as intense as it was today. I point at the boat hidden behind a blanket of fog and rain. She looks at the boat and then at me. “I’ve seen worse conditions, I’m sure it will be fine”. The boat soared into the air only to be pulled back down by the water it had used to get there. She seems unphased.
“You haven’t seen the ocean like this before have you?” she asks, noticing my fear and amazement.
“I wish I had” I say with enthusiasm. “It’s incredible”.
We sit in silence for a while longer. The boat eventually makes it out of view and the sea seems to calm, if only for a moment. The lighthouse to our right shines on the stone below it, illuminating the water for all to see. It jumps to what feels like mere feet in front of us before sinking back into the coarse sand. My mother takes my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back.
If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
My mom grew up on the east coast. She would visit the ocean every chance she got, even now. It never occurred to her that I had never seen the sea as intense as it was today. I point at the boat hidden behind a blanket of fog and rain. She looks at the boat and then at me. “I’ve seen worse conditions, I’m sure it will be fine”. The boat soared into the air only to be pulled back down by the water it had used to get there. She seems unphased.
“You haven’t seen the ocean like this before have you?” she asks, noticing my fear and amazement.
“I wish I had” I say with enthusiasm. “It’s incredible”.
We sit in silence for a while longer. The boat eventually makes it out of view and the sea seems to calm, if only for a moment. The lighthouse to our right shines on the stone below it, illuminating the water for all to see. It jumps to what feels like mere feet in front of us before sinking back into the coarse sand. My mother takes my hand and squeezes it. I squeeze back.
If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.
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