He walked toward the clearing between two rock walls which jotted into the ocean, forming kind of a natural tub.  The water was churning, and he passed several signs which warned against swimming.  Only the birds seemed to be interested in the water, the waves and the foaming beauty of what probably attracted every pirate, sailor, and fisherman since the beginning of time.  The lifeguards had enough, and were packing their little umbrellas, which by some weird chance hadn’t blown away by the wind.

No one comes all this way to not swim.  No one does anything for the ocean, to not be one with it.  He walked past the rocks into the open space which went on for about a mile, before disappearing into the gulf.  Or the ocean, or somewhere into the horizon where Blackbeard still existed, and mermaids sang your name.

The water felt warm, inviting as always, despite appearing angry and standoffish.  Like a woman who can’t help resist that look you give her, but stays angry at you for who knows how long.  He jumped into the first large wave head first.  It pulled him under, and spit him out toward shore.  He went in again.  Each one was like a baptism.  I guess the warnings made sense.  With the tide approaching, and winds picking up, he thought better than to swim out as far.   As if angry at his own sensibility, he walked in chest deep.  As the waves rolled in, the water was already towering.

He dropped down, his knees hitting the sandy bottom, rocks and pebbles pelting at his legs with every approach and retreat. He laid his head back onto the rolling wave.  The next one struck him high, picked him up off his knees, and laid him flat on his back.  He rolled over and got up.  Again.  He walked out a few steps, down to his knees.  The next one bent him back at the waist, like a new yoga pose.  Again.  On his knees, punched, rolled, and onto the hill of cascading foam.  Again…

He couldn’t make sense of it, but he needed more.  Again and again he went back, until the violence of water was peaceful and still.  He tried matching it in his mind.  Calm, and balanced, like jellies that now covered the surface.  He looked up, realizing it was dark.  As beautiful as the sunset was, he waited for dark.

It was all coming together. Yin and yang.  Crime and punishment.  Love and hate.  It was all on that beach.  He thanked the heavens for it all.

*The views and opinions expressed on this website are solely those of the original authors and contributors. These views and opinions do not necessarily represent those of Spotter Up Magazine, the administrative staff, and/or any/all contributors to this site.


By Rab

Rab has been in public service for some 17 years, holding several specialized assignments, and becoming a law enforcement and emergency services instructor. He has 10 years in the military and currently serving as a reservist, fire team leader and medic. He enjoys learning, writing, doing grunt work, and helping other vets in need. To further that goal, they started Grunt’s BBQ and Easy Company. A future mobile chow hall, coming to an AO near you.

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