This is a view of the ocean in Monterey. The texture in the middleground is a massive kelp bed. I wish we had had more than an hour to spend there. I love the ocean. And I don't seem to love any part more than the next. No coastline I have visited has ever disappointed. Every one was exactly as much as I needed at that moment.
I wish I could go back in time and take pictures of those uncaptured ocean visits: the first time I smelled salt water in the air while running toward the Boston harbour. The first time I stepped onto ocean sand. I didn't even realize that it wasn't a beach until the shifting tide started to swallow up the land. There was a pink starfish stranded in a little puddle of water and zillions of barnacles covering a wall we had decended down from. That's the one failing of photography -- the memories that have passed that have been captured by my eyes only. I have a language of words but I can't seem to put them together in a way that expresses exactly what I want to say. But sometimes I can put a picture together and it comes out right.