#16: The Rocks

I'm calm. So peaceful and calm, serene in fact. Andrew, Brighton, Peter and Thomas are in the water, riding the waves. After my first and last experience, I don't fancy trying my hand at is again any time soon. Instead, I'm on the rocks. I'm so relaxed, the only though on my mind is how relaxed I am. The reliable, rhythmic pattern of the waves and the consistency of the horizon reminds me of the reliable, rhythmic  and consistent patterns in life. The ocean's foamy fingertips break at the shore and the surf makes swirly white patterns for just a second before they're recalled back into the great body of water only for it to happen again, and again, and again. It breaks, it gets unbroken. Standard. Ever though if, one day, the sea just stops and all the water is still? Imagine going to the beach, or on a boat and the water just didn't move? How beyond absurd would that be? I feel like that would be such a devastation. I wonder how it would affect the fish and all the other live down under. I hope that never happens. 
I think I'd like to be a marine biologist. Although, I'm not really sure what that would entail. What does a marine biologist do? I would like to work with the creature of the deep though. Perhaps I'd clean the shores or something. I'd love to make whale documentaries or something. How interesting would your life be if you spent a great deal of it in a place you couldn't breath without assistance?
There are two guys fishing, their methodical approach is comforting; a father and a son from Baltimore, they've been here a week, today is their last day. Yesterday they caught 50 fish (blue fish, whatever they are). The father was asking me about my life in England - where I'm from, what my major is (explaining that our school system is different was too much so I went with), what I want to do - he realised I was Scottish pretty sharpish due to the colour of my hair, my freckles, and my complexion. His son lost his glasses, man do I know that feeling. Speaking of, my glasses are breaking, I'm going to have to take them to the opticians when I get home. Home. What a place. You know what I realised this morning? I can't remember what colour our plates are. You know, our dinner dishes, cups and bowls (matching set). I cannot for the life of me remember what they look like. Similarly, about a week ago, I forgot the colour of a £10 note. I could not at all it's orangey tone beside the face. I'm pretty sure that face has a beard but I could be wrong. I'm forgetting things I never even realised I could forget. I've even forgotten the sound of my own Mothers voice. How terrible is that? It's ok though, I'm calling her tomorrow, it's her birthday. I've sent her a presents without telling and I haven't mentioned it in any of my emails.  She'll definitely be surprised when she hears my voice tomorrow and even more so when her gift arrives. Bless her, I do love my Mother. I can't wait to see her again.

N.B I do not miss home.