“I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.”
I’ve always, for as long as I can remember, felt a strong connection to the sea and tides. I have been most lucky to have almost always lived near the ocean. I’ve missed it something fierce when I haven’t been near it. I remember moving to Cape Breton and getting out of the car on the very first day and exclaiming that it tasted like home, the wonderful salt air on my lips.
I chose the above poem, because I am not a sit on the beach and soak up the sun type person. I’d rather walk along a rocky shore and stare out to sea. The windier the better. It suits my personality. It’s a place to dream and think, but not to be idle. I must be in moving, exploring and living. So yes, bring me back to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky.
Posted for The Daily Post using the prompt – Places