Oceans

My boyfriend (Peter) and I went down to New Haven Harbor today. Let’s face it, we’re surrounded by oceans, and most of them are downright inhospitable. I live near the ocean, (pointing) it’s right over there. I love the ocean, tripping over whenever I’ve time to spare. The way I’m fawning over it, you’d think I know it well. But I really only love its edges and undulating swells. It’s like a book that I’ve judged by its cover, a beautiful stranger taken as a lover, or a pie when I’ve only tasted the crust. I love something, I suppose, I’ve barely even touched. Peter says that black, inky “outer-space” is a low-viscosity liquid, another, even vaster ocean that’s more dangerous and rarely visited. The air that we breathe is an ocean - our own, vast, atmosphere - in it swim creatures too small to see, but to the naked eye it looks clear. It flows, eddies and swells - birds swoop in it so you can tell. Of course, the ocean has issues - it's hardly news - corrosion, erosion, sharks and drowning - and the way the ocean lets the moon and air push it around. What I love most is its motion, and how it reflects the sun and the moon. Did I mention that hanging-out by the ocean makes for a pleasant afternoon?