by Rochelle | April 30, 2014
"Infectious Salt" The smell of salt overwhelms my senses, the sea breeze clears my cluttered thoughts. The sound of seagulls and splashing water eradicate the tension within my muscles, and the chill vibe surrounding me enlightens my rigid bones. I lay on top of my board, chest facing upward, feet on the nose. I have never felt freer, I have never felt more at home. A couple paddles, a few small failures, and a few ridden waves. The euphoria of walking on water, of riding a swell overtakes my senses and beats at my self-control. Panicked wipe outs, tension filled three-sixties only a few feet beneath the surface leave me breathless and scared, but craving for more. Pressing lips and moving tongue, closed eyes, what is this? Who knew saltwater could taste so sweet? How could a piece of fiberglass mean so much to me? Who am I? I am me. A child of God, of this infectious sea.