Why the Ocean...

Sophia Andresen, in one of her poems, addresses the sea with this line: You are a mystery, made only for me (És um mistério feito só para mim). Every time I get a chance to contemplate the ocean, I get the same feeling: I know nothing. Whenever the cold southern waves invite me into their waters, I follow them in a mixture of curiosity and caution: I never know what they might have reserved for me. I love the magnetic , though many times dangerous, freedom of being one with the sea. When my feet change from sand to water, I usually complain about the cold, but welcome the touch. I love to watch the waves come and go and I´m always curious about what the high tide might bring to shore. Some months ago, when I was visiting my hometown, after two days of strong winds and turbulent waters, there were two dead sea turtles and a dead sea lion, besides hundreds of seashells on the sand, brought by the storm. Some years ago, the Southern Atlantic tide brought a shipwreck to Cassino Beach. That´s the cycle of life.
We all have our ways of connecting with Nature, whether we´re aware of them or not. Some people see nature as a mother, some as an enemy, and some others as a slave. I see nature within myself. I have my mountains, my oceans, my trees, my high and low tides, my tempests, my hurricanes, my sunny days but, most importantly, I have that mixed feeling of uncertainty and curiosity about life that makes me appreciate every single experience, as if it had been brought by the waves.