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A friend of mine recently challenged me to “choose a simple paragraph from one of your blogs and make it into the whole story, the story must remain in the moment of the paragraph not moving to what happens next”.

Rather than revisit a previous blog I decided to write a paragraph in my usual style and attempt to achieve what she requested in the paragraphs below it. This one is for you buddy.

Holidays at the beach are great, from the time we arrive the ocean tends to dominate our visit both with the sounds and sights, I can spend endless hours just experiencing the amazing body of water that is the Pacific Ocean.

The water before me appears as a mix of blues displayed in an Ombré effect, graduating from deep navy at the horizon and includes shades of marine, aqua and cobalt blue. Closer to the shore, shadows from rocks incrusted with shellfish and wrapped within long strands of dark seaweed tentacles that dance in the currents, taint the blues to add a murky brown tinge to the mix. The chroma of the Pacific Ocean that extends before me this evening is dulled under the greying sky, there is a sense of calm as the water resembles a lake with slight ripples and waves gently lapping at the shore.

Earlier in the day the saturation of the colours was vibrant, amplified by the sunshine and the strong wind that whipped along the coast, breathing life into the ocean. The turbulent water resembled a battlefield which saw waves with white caps appearing from the shoreline to the horizon; nature at its best.

I was in awe as mountainous deep blue waves rose high above the ocean and from nowhere a sprinkling of majestic white water appeared on the top edge for a few seconds before the white exploded forward and consumed the blue charging down towards the seabed. Huge pipes are formed as the white water races past the blue before collapsing together as one and the wave thunders towards the shore. At the same time that the white appears at the top of the wave, small jets of the white water leap up and back forming a synchronised spray dancing backwards, going against the main stream of water all adding to the drama.

Although the waves start to form in a similar fashion their destinations are not the same as the battle is not always won by the white water. Unlike the waves that charge full steam into the shoreline with white bubbling water taking with it strands of tumbling seaweed and churning up the sand into clouds others trickle to the edge and moisturise the shore in a gentle manner or the battle is won by the blue water the white water is reabsorbed into the mountain from which it came and lost from sight.

My favourite is when the waves become a work of art where by a slow cascade of white drips down the blue water to form beautiful intricate intertwined lace patterns which stretch forward and back and collects at the shores edge.

The reason I refer to the creation of the waves as a battle is in relation to the roar of the ocean which is loud and confronting. Initially the sound is all consuming and distracts you from all other sounds, this domination is much like static, it is as if the ocean is announcing itself to get you full attention. The assault on the senses helps to focus your mind and take away the stresses from whence you have come. And although the sound remains whether the water is calm or rough, the intensity on your senses seems to dissipate as you start to relax allowing other sounds to come into focus.

The water before me appears as a mix of colours, it is loud and confronting but it provides the opportunity to stop, concentrate and to simply be in the moment and experience the ocean as it reveals itself and its stories and as a result I am left breathless, awakened, rejuvenated, inspired and appreciating life and the world around me.

Not sure if this is what you were expecting Heather but I love the ocean so thanks for the opportunity of providing me time to reflect on the many hours I spend watching the waves roll into the shore.