For whatever we lose (like a you or a me), it's always ourselves we find in the sea (E.E. Cummings)

The waves are almost crawling between the rocks beneath my feet and the wind seems too shy to blow stronger… It’s amazing how the sea always looks as if she understands me.

I grew up here, close to these rocks, on the grey sands, with the breeze caressing my cheek whether peeved or happy I was, the water streaming down my fingers whether alone or not.
I’ve thrown hundreds of stones, thinking of someone or not, and the sea always embraced them with the same tenderness. I’ve been looking for shells for hours as a child, teenager or grownup and she always offered me the most beautiful ones with the same generosity. Why?
I dare to think that she knows how deep and everlasting my love for her goes.

Only driving on the coast makes me feel better… Only that stolen glance gives me comfort and all of a sudden the thoughts that seem relentlessly haunting my mind become pieces of warmth and grace.

She always gives me that share of freedom I need for the forthcoming turmoil, for the harsh or pleasant days ahead of me. I remember what I am deep inside me: a seaman. “You seaman will always be free” said someone. Well, I am.