The Restless Sea
By Matthew L. Henry, 2/21/11
Air, water, salt, and sand are all thrown together in a chaotically majestic melee. I come up from the last onslaught, find my footing again, and brace myself for the next. I wipe the saltwater from my face to see and breathe. The next wave isn’t far off but it’s already building up strength and advancing on me. This struggle is a thrilling contest between the elements and man. The presence of danger is there like the undertow tugging at my legs but I stand stalwart and grin.
The wave reaches me and I tackle it with a set shoulder and clenched fists. The might of the sea pushes me back a few feet, while crashing down around my head and shoulders. For a few moments, the majority of my senses are disabled and I hold my breath as my feet slide across the muddy stand. Relying on my sense of direction and balance, I grasp at the muddy sand with my feet and steady myself with my arms. Eventually I gain purchase and rise up from the waters victorious, at least for now. The dark waters of the Gulf stream down from my head and shoulders, joining the rush for the next wave.
I’ve been at this for a while now, battered by wave after wave. In each deluge, my life hangs in the balance. I push the limits, probably in deeper than is wise. But it is in this danger that I feel truly alive. It seems that it is only when one is at risk of losing grasp of life that it seems so very real and precious. You want it more when you might be about to lose it. However, unlike the sea, my strength is not endless. Each successive mighty blow lessens my reserves. I know that eventually I’ll have to return to the beach, admitting the superiority of nature.
Another wave rises up in front of me. This one seems larger than the others that came before it. I adjust my usual stance, spreading my feet out just a little farther apart and lowering my center of gravity. My muscles tense in my legs, back, and arms as I draw a deep breath. The veritable wall of water slams into me and I am immediately knocked backwards, completely submerged.
The currents pull at me in different directions and the wave tumbles me. My sense of direction is horribly vague. I can’t seem to touch the bottom for more than a second or reach the surface. Somewhere in the back of my mind I wonder if I’m about to drown. But I’m too focused on surviving to panic just yet. My feet finally make contact with the bottom, but the water pulls me so hard I can’t set them firmly. I realize then that I’m not just fighting the wave anymore, the competition is serious now. My lungs are beginning to ache for oxygen.
Something clicks in my mind and I remember something I learned about swimming in the ocean. You have to work with the waves and currents; you can’t beat at them senselessly. I let my motions become more fluid, more in-tune with the motions of my surroundings. Somehow, I find a pattern in the chaos and begin working my way back towards what I hope is the shore. Suddenly my hand breaks through the surface, finding the precious life-giving air I need. With a great push of my arms and legs, I thrust my head upwards. My face breaks through and I draw in air for the first time in what seems an eternity. My relief is brief though, a wave submerges me again. However, this one must be smaller, as I manage to remain near the surface.
Aligning my body with the surface of the water, I begin working towards the beach. I use the push of the waves, riding their crests. After they pass, the water retreats, trying to pull me backwards. I paddle frog style, not going far but at least staying put until the next wave carries me forward. Eventually this pattern gets me far enough to where I can set my feet on the bottom again.
When I finally reach the beach, I flop down to rest. With the soft crashes and sighs of the water to caress my ears, and the pleasant afternoon sun warming me, I soon drift off to a light sleep. I’m grateful for the salty tang of the sea air in my lungs and the soft touch of the breeze on my skin as my heaving breaths become shallower sighs. The waves go on building up and crashing, the sea ever restless as it meets land.
