Always the same. Never the same.

I suppose you could say that about a lot of things.  I have been thinking about it in relation to the ocean, as I have been watching it for the past few days.  There is something very comforting in its sameness.  I love when we arrive in Lincoln City, and it becomes a contest to see who can catch a glimpse of the ocean first.  Why is it such a thrill?  Do we suspect that it has changed, or departed?  Of course not.  Just the reassurance of its reliability is gratifying in some way.  And it is the star attraction when we come to the coast.  It isn't the saltwater taffy, or the seafood at Mo's, or the sun, or the sand, or the seagulls. The ocean is like a huge magnet that draws everyone to it.  It is hypnotic.  It is soothing.  It is mesmerizing.

While it can be counted on for its permanence, the fascination also lies in its ever-changing nature.  Every cresting wave is unique.  The colors vary.  The wave patterns change. The wealth it deposits at high tide is its own surprise.  What it reveals during low-tide is a similar treasure hunt.  The varying light of the morning, noon, and evening creates a stunning, continuous picture show.

I often wonder what lies beneath the beauty of the waves.  What parallel universe exists hidden by the depths?  We may occasionally enter this mysterious world by means of s.c.u.b.a. or snorkel, but all it really does is pique my curiosity about the components I don't see.  We can survey with binoculars or telescopes, thrilling as we catch sight of sea lions and whales.  But that really only reminds us of all we cannot see.

I'm thankful for my friend, the ocean.  I respect its power.  I respect its majesty. It lulls me to sleep at night.  It wakens me with the rhythm of its unique music, beckoning me to get out of bed and start my day, once again gazing into its mystery.