Sea Salt

February 20, 2009
By Lulexy BRONZE, Jacksonville, Florida
Lulexy BRONZE, Jacksonville, Florida
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The scent of sea air assaults her senses. Just over the hill that blocks her father?s summer home?her father?s summer home because she has her own apartment in the bustling city beyond many fields from it?is the pacific ocean. She has always loved the ocean, ever since she was a little girl.

?She?s a fish, my little clown.? Her mother would always say, and she?d feel a little bit of some kind of pride because she loved being compared to the magical creatures that inhabited the sea.

When she turned fifteen, she got a job at a shack by the beach that sold anything from ice cream cones to wetsuits. It was the happiest summer of her life.

Then her mother died and she had to move into the city with her dad, who had no clue what to do with her.

Now, as she walked over the grass laden sand dunes before the ocean, she was assaulted with the memories of her younger years.

She remembered when her auburn hair would intertwine just above her shoulders like the roots of a tree after she swam in the water for hours. She remembered the feeling of puckered flesh on the tips of her hands and feet because she would stay in the water for too long. She remembered her mother sitting on a beach towel with a bottle of water in her hand, waving and smiling broadly when she saw her daughter glance at her.

Most of all though, she remembered the sensation she got when she was in the ocean, swimming around aimlessly. How fascinated she got when she saw something move around her, how she wanted nothing more than to live with the creatures of the sea.

Her father never understood, but her mother did. The day after her mother died, her father told her to pack her bags; they were moving.

Being by the ocean again was like seeing an old friend. She felt like a part of her was missing when she was living in the city, incomplete. Living around so many people only made her value the ocean more. The ocean was a chaste thing, quiet and peaceful. The city was too busy, with too many sounds and smells, too many people. Every night she had a dream about the sea and every morning she woke up with a longing so strong she felt like she might cry.

It only exacerbated when, right after she started college, her father moved back into the house by the ocean.

She let all of the memories and thoughts float from her mind as the sand chilled the soles of her feet. The ocean spread out in front of her was the same color of her eyes and it lapped at the area just below her toes.

She inhaled deeply and stepped away from the water, the smell of the air thick and warm around her; a blanket in the comfort of the safest place.

She slipped out of her overalls, leaving only her bathing suit bottoms and tank top behind, and took a running start into the deep blue of the water.

It was cold; so cold that it took her a while to take a complete breath, but when she got adjusted to it she felt like she would cry from contentment.

She felt whole again, pieced together and held tightly, and she thought that maybe this summer would top even her best of summers.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book