Why Is the Sea So Angry?

The sea is still angry.  For three days, wave after wave of  frothy surf has been slamming relentlessly into the beach while further out, white caps dot the water all the way to the horizon.  Meanwhile, a howling onshore wind had been bending  palm trees to its will, causing their fronds to weathervane sharply toward the west.

This morning, dark clouds were scudding over our building, causing the sky to alternate between, dark grey, white, and bright blue. Peering up and down the beach through my salt and rain streaked window there was not a sea bird in sight.  This did not surprise me.  Seagulls, pelicans and ospreys---all seasoned aviators---knew instinctively that the weather was not favorable for gliding and soaring above the surf looking for food.  No doubt they were hunkered down in some secret location waiting for the weather to improve.

As usual, we humans were slow to react.  Here and there I could see people trudging along, alone or in groups, heads down, windbreakers billowing in the wind.  Vacationers I decided, struggling to make the most of a one or two week sojourn, eager to sample the joys I experience almost every day of my life.

Yesterday, I watched a surfer stride onto the beach in the face of the howling wind, a surfboard under his arm, ready to do some kite surfing. Exuding an air of  confidence that only a young man can display, he unpacked his kite and made it ready to launch.  The kite launched smartly and rose directly over his head as the surfer began steering it toward the sea.  But the kite had other ideas.  Banking sharply to the right, it headed straight for our building.  The surfer struggled vainly to regained control of the kite to no avail and soon found himself being dragged wildly across the sand.  That's when he disconnected it from his harness.  Once free of the harness, the kite shot straight as an arrow toward my window, picking up speed as it went. Passing a few feet from me it finally crashed into a nearby palm tree where it became entangled in the fronds.

For a moment I stood in stunned silence looking at the wreckage of the kite outside my window.  The whole spectacle had taken less than minute to unfold.  Then I hurried downstairs to help my neighbors who were already assembling to untangle the kite.  As I passed the swimming pool I stopped to look at the its controls which were entangled in the surrounding fence.  It was a sturdy, very professional piece of equipment, and no doubt very expensive.  When I looked at the brand name I had to smile---"Sling Shot."  A very appropriate name I thought---very appropriate indeed!

The surfer arrived a few minutes later, a young man in his twenties looking sheepish but otherwise unhurt.

We helped him pack up his gear and sent him on his way.  He left the beach without trying again.

That night, as I lay in bed listening to the wind howling and rattling our windows I found myself wondering why the sea is so angry. Did we do something to anger her?  Then I remembered that the sea is  the mother of us all and it made sense.  She is probably tired and disillusioned by the unruly and wasteful brood she cast out of the sea and on to dry land.  Anyway, one thing I knew for sure; sooner or later the skies will clear, the winds will cease, and the surface of the ocean will become glassy smooth again.  The thought of those idyllic days ahead lulled me into a deep and peaceful sleep.

10:30 March 6, 2011

I slept late this morning and awoke to the sound of children playing in the swimming pool.  Peeking through the curtains I saw that the wind had subsided considerably, although the surf was still quite choppy.  All was not quite over, but the sound of children gave me hope. That's the way it has always been---the children give us hope.