It has been a few days of unpleasant weather. Starting with high wind and drenching rains, we are now beginning to see some sunshine, a typical September nor’easter. The sea has been angry.
One can see the spray and the brown spume blowing through the air, and the waves, gradually giving up as they climb the beach’s slope but still strong enough to undermine my tripod legs. Such storms always bring watchers (and here I am), drawn to the drama of the pounding waves.
My late friend, LeRoy (a psychoanalyst), once told us that we are drawn to the sea because we have a deep memory of the sloshing waters of the womb. Whatever.