Instantly I am drawn to the water. It is cool and relieving from the unforgiving
sun. Swimming around, I see crabs
scurrying in the shallow water and schools of fish with plan of
direction. In the water I feel in my own
element. It’s been this way for as long
as I can remember. I am able to let go
of the world on land and immerse myself in a world undefined.
In the essay, "Waterman’s
World" Tom Horton writes, “What we long ago found unthinkable on land; we
continue to celebrate on the water” (188). The water opens the door for the imagination. The water helps to celebrate something
“unthinkable on land.” For the land is
more defined in nature: if there is sunlight it will brighten an area. But sunlight in the water projects the surface
of the water onto the ocean bottom. With my friend’s
goggles, I can see the rhythm of the sun’s rays on the ocean floor. After gazing at the floor, I swim as hard as
I can through the shallow water. Catching my breath, I lay on my back floating
in the water. My ears are submerged and
I can hear my rapid heartbeat in the water.
Listening to my heartbeat “on land” was “unthinkable,” but out in the
water I am able to “celebrate” my life as it pulses in the water. It almost creates a sonar effect, establishing my
own personal beat to the ocean.
I flip over and look out towards the horizon. There
are about five World War II ships sunk in the bay. I did not really take the time to gaze at
them before because the excitement of the water consumed me. Dr. Laurie Cella informs me that those ships are
responsible for the beach: without them erosion would eat away at the sandy shoreline, leaving it inadequate for recreation. This
idea of using ships to protect a habitat is “unthinkable on land,” and thanks
to these concrete giants, we are able to “celebrate on the water.” The retired guardians of the beach, schools
of fish, the rays of sunshine on the ocean bottom, and my rapid heartbeat are
all what allows me to call the water my element. The free floating, care free, and openness of
the sea reflects the way I think of life.
The water is like a childhood friend because regardless of the time
spent apart, once reunited it’s like I never left.
By Andy Dixon
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