a gulls delight

The wonderful salty smell of the Ocean, the pounding of the surf against ancient rocks; this represents power to me. As far back in my memory as I can reach, the Pacific Ocean has always drawn me to It, much as a penny is drawn to a magnet. The seagulls that irritate so many on their picnics scavenging for food among their crumbs represent freedom to me; watching them in their patterns of flight over the Ocean in the evening with the sun going down, they appear from afar as beautiful as any other bird would. The seals nurse their young along the large grey rocks that line the coast, the Ocean is their life, not just a tourist attraction. The Ocean itself is the beginning and end of all things, sending its strength in many ways across the land, so that others may thrive in Its' riches. I find it hard to believe how many people seem to believe that polluting and desecrating the Ocean will not have any major repercussions; this world without water will only appear as a round, dead grey rock from afar, inhabited by nothing but the dead bodies that lay below its' surface. Not all that different in appearance, perhaps, from the ones I found so much peace sitting upon in my youth, dipping my feet in the cool, cleansing water and taking joy in its strength; but in reality it will be nothing at all.