It’s Been a Long Time

I’ve always loved the ocean. I went to college in Santa Cruz. I was fortunate enough to spend four years living on campus. It felt like a dream come true. I had redwoods literally feet from my bedroom window. I used to spend afternoons sitting in my bed overlooking the trees, watching baby raccoons cling to their mother’s back as they would climb up the branches. Deer would come to my back porch daily. On rare occasions, I’d even be lucky enough to see a bobcat (far away enough in the meadow, though looking back, truly still too close for comfort). And the ocean - I took walks there from campus almost daily. I never much liked driving, or riding the bus, and the walk from campus was maybe only 45 minutes. I would bring my camera and my sketchbook and spend the day watching the waves, making art along the way.

This trip with my family was a breath of fresh air. My husband’s aunt graciously hosted us for an afternoon at her beach house in Watsonville. The sounds of the ocean lapping at the shore, the seagulls calling overhead, the sand between our toes, the salt in the air — I miss the ocean so much.

It was so difficult saying goodbye to Santa Cruz once I graduated. I didn’t drive at the time, so I would take the bus back to Santa Cruz as often as I could - sometimes weekly, until gradually it was every month or so, until eventually it was not at all. These visits to the ocean are few and far between - and they are deeply treasured.

There is something tremendously healing about sitting still and looking out into the horizon, watching the water play.