Beyond the sea

Outside my house is a long snaking sea-wall of black stones, bordered by a running path. I went to sit on it today for some fresh air and thinking space, watching the extra-large waves kick up spray into the slanting sun, and feeling the rock I sat on hum with the impact. There was a hiccup when outgoing water meets incoming water, and the seagulls floated and bobbed there, like buoys marking the safe passage channel. As each wave sucked away, the pebbles under the water rumbled and hissed as they were dragged oceanwards. The ocean smelled like childhood- summer days when the beach on Chappaquiddick got too cold for everyone else, but my family stayed on, bundled in coats and hats, to watch the sun setting behind the waving beach grass. The later days when I sat hugging my knees, and pondering the angst of rural teenage life, and even later days when family members fell in love and got married by the ocean.

I could be so many other places- even thousands of miles away, the Atlantic still smells the same. The rock I sit on may be lava-formed instead of granite, but it's got the same sea-worn smoothness under my hands. Why then, is it so important to be here?

My parents left yesterday, after a tearful good-bye the evening before. I know that they want me to live wherever I am happiest, but it breaks my heart to see how we all feel the separation. I know they loved it when I was a 2 hour drive away, in a city they came to often on business. Now that I'm here, visits are relegated to these new intense, short periods where every moment feels like it has to be Significantly Memorable, without the hanging-out of previous days. I see why people stay close to families after this experience, but I'm left wondering also if it would feel different if I weren't living abroad. Is it easier if your parents are in New York and you live in Kansas, or is distance distance, no matter where everyone chooses to live?

Ship sighting: This afternoon, a large fishing ship along the lines of Engey was hovering around the harbor entrance, between the outermost island and Akrafjall. It stayed there for several hours, drifting a distance that seemed too large to have been held by anchor. This seems to be a new trend in the harbor experience- the drifting boat. Maybe it did happen before and I just couldn't see it in all the dark.