Love Of The Sea
He was but a boy when first we met, a child grasped in his parents’ arms. He was but a boy visiting the sea for the first time, a child enchanted by our waves. He was a fisherman’s son and his heart would be forever ours.
We rolled in and out before him as his family thrived upon our waters. He would splash through our shallows as winds skimmed our surface and birds dove to fill their beaks. He was content with life and we were content with him.
One day as he walked our shores we bestowed a gift upon him.
We dove deep into our depths to dig it up, prying it from the sediment and up into our waters. We lapped at his legs to deliver it, pushing it closer with every sweep. We fled and left it before him.
“Wow,” we heard him whisper as he reached down to grasp it.
We watched as he lifted it from our sands.
It was a shell made hundreds of years prior, crafted, tended, then abandoned. We’d covered it, preserved it, and gave it to him as a gift, from one friend to another.
Under the sun’s rays its inner colors gleamed. It was small as it sat in the hand of a child, joy and awe filling him as he brushed his fingers over its edges. It was a masterpiece and it was his to keep forever.
That night, as the sun set beyond our waves and he walked home between his parents, our gift tucked away, he whispered four little words that made us swell.
“I love the sea.”
It made us giddy as we rushed over the shore and reflected the light of the moon and stars. That night we glittered just for him.
“I love the sea.”
And we loved him in return.