I think it's a she

I love living by the sea.

I love the way it reflects the sky and predicts the weather - a calm sea means a decent day tomorrow; a choppy sea and trouble is coming.  When a rainstorm rolls in the waves crash so loud we can hear them while we're in bed, and the rhythmic rush of water on sand is as mesmerizing to us as it's been to humans for millenia.

Maybe the best thing though about living next to the sea is that we can go there anytime we want, and especially at times when we're the only ones there.  

I think I love it best at night.  During daylight, the perimeters of the sea are graciously granted to people - sunbathers and fishermen and snorkelers.  At twilight, the water reclaims itself and draws its skirts in, and at night the ocean belongs only to itself.

Being on the beach at night is strange and it feels a little out of context, because for so many of us beaches mean sultry air and bright sunbleached afternoons. It's quiet at night, with no one else in sight, and the only sound is the water itself, sighing and restless.

I feel like a voyeur,  like I'm peeking in on some secret show after hours, when I'm down there on a chilly night, looking at the reflections on the water and skipping rocks when the waves are calm.

Lovely.