Farewell to the Pacific
I was born in the middle of the Pacific Ocean not on a boat but on the island of Oahu. For most of my l life I have lived within a couple of hours of the Pacific, able to return to the womb like feeling of my youth at a moment’s notice.
The Pacific Ocean was inappropriately named on an unusually calm season when it was discovered, but despite it's wild and unpredictable nature, I still find it calming to my spirit whenever I look into the vastness of it's water.
I can sit for hours watching waves swell and slowly roll over forming long tubes that flood the beach and sink my feet into the sand. I can endlessly watch the tiny legs of shore birds run towards receding waves unveiling tasty morsels for them to eat. I can gaze at seagulls as gentle breezes lift them off the sand and they coast in a visual symphony along the shore.
In Seattle, although I was several hours away from the Pacific, I still lived surrounded by water, the lake, the Puget sound, even the polluted Duwamish river. The ability to float in my mind just a few steps from my home was incredibly peaceful, bringing back childhood memories of days at the beach when we swam all day and buried our orange peels in the sand. If I was to make a list of my favorite things to do, dipping my feet in the water would always be number one.
Tomorrow we leave the Pacific and head East towards Arizona, surrounded by plants that thrive in the dust. I will eat my last juicy piece of fruit because fresh fruits and vegetables in the desert are wilted and old, trucked in from far away places where things humans eat actually grow. Because our rule on this journey is immersion, I will let the dust coat my toes, but keep moisturizer on my face so I can smile without cracking my lips.