After my wonderful indian summer into autumn in Norcal I was delighted to come back to the bay and spend some of the winter living on the ocean in SF's Outer Sunset neighborhood. The place I was living was 4 blocks from beautiful Ocean Beach, where I walked everyday-sometimes several times. At night I would go down to the ocean by myself, sit in the sand and gaze into the endless abyss of sea, stars and mist that encapsulated the space called sky. Some of the most beautiful sunsets in the world painted themselves before my eyes in the dead of winter, and the golden sun painted my skin with warmth.
I've been in love with the ocean for as long as I can remember. I've known that I belonged to the sweet Pacific since I played in her as a child, my little feet and legs being swallowed up into salty waves, sand soft and gritty sweet between my toes and sticking to my feet long after I would leave the ocean's waters.
Being there this winter I remembered something I have come to realize so many times before. I want to live beside the Pacific when I am an old woman. I want to dream there beside the sea contemplating all the beautifully wild adventures my youth offered me-let my spirit continue to wander free into the waves, which it belongs to. Dream up ideas churned from the waters sweet mist until I die... the sea has a beautiful way of inspiring brilliant creativity.
My heart belongs to the ocean. I love her. I've come to identify myself as some sort of a sea gypsy...