The sea, the sea

As a Piscean, I've always been attracted to the sea.

That's possibly an ambiguous statement, as when I was a little girl I was more fascinated, then attracted.

I remember large waves, going over my heart and splashing into my eyes. I couldn't hold onto my dad's neck tight enough. Then one Summer I learnt to swim. I remember my nana standing at the other side of the pool, as I free styled (a 5 year olds version that more resembled dog-paddle) across. I was so proud, as was she.

Because of this pull, it's fortunate that I grew up in Australia. The pool in the small country town where I lived from aged 5-11, was my hub. I spent weekends there, met friends there after school and celebrated Christmas parties there. In Winter when it closed, it looked like a sad clown, covered and stripped of its sunshine. The Summer was a season where it reapplied it's makeup and made the children laugh.

Having the beach accessible is a blessing to someone like me. Feeling the body of water flow over your skin, the salty sea waves crashing on your belly, feeling the bubbles that were created burst at your feet, are all feelings I now crave.

Living in London, I have not seen the sea in months. I have not been in the sea since last Christmas. I miss it and the peace of which it creates; it is medicinal, the Victorians (not the state, but the period) agree with me.

With Winter approaching I seem fixated on the idea of sinking my toes into the wet sand and slowly letting my body be enveloped in the flowing waters. The sad thing is, I have no idea when I will see the ocean again, or feel it's touch.