Where it all began

It is here, where even air and land are part of the sea, that the surging and waning waves of the first breath of a fresh salt breeze is born.

Rolling giant tidal waves of grass surround, granite turtle backs, and breaching whales, that are birthed out of the green undulating troughs and crests of an earthen ocean. Towering crests of stone, on the coastal cliffs, take the form of a giant crashing surf of broken boulders in a mirrored image, of the meeting of land and sea.

The wind playing the ocarina, pan flute and lyre, through the reeds and rocks, blows a seductive, hypnotic siren's melody, irresistibly calling the waves, that in obedience, come ever forward with their, suicidal, then resurrecting, pounding, pummeling beats.

One's eyes, drifting down these hills, drink liquid green velvet, poured over these piles of stone, rusted with lime gray lichens. These half buried relics of Golem merge into clumps of sea grass that appear as armies of porcupines crowding the boundary that extends to a sepia granite rock cove, with tortoise shell patterns of cracks, holding the scent of algae.

Small pools of sea water teem with mole crabs, occasional beadlet anemones and purple sea urchins. In the breakwater, myriads of mussels desperately cling to sheer rock faces, like young to their mother's breast.

The roar of eternal percussive waves, battering in rhythmic tempo, accompanied by the cry of sea gulls and small song birds fill in a harmonic background to the ocean's symphony, resounding in Vulcan's ancient volcanic amphitheater.

Poseidon's white foam beard, in the form of tumultuous, turbulent breakers, shoots skyward, crescendoing with the geyser like spray from an occasional rogue wave, battering impotently against igneous walls, then cascading back over these solid foundations in a drenching, baptismal rain.

Milk white frothing foam in surging, circling rings, floats and dissipates on the edge of a parlous giant rock womb, with the wind carried scent of a placental seaweed lining. The immortal rolling dips and swells of a worn and torn, transparent blanket, rise and fall with each of the sea Queen's slumbering breaths. Dark, sleeping, shadows of monstrous unborn fetus' rest below the undulating surface, occasionally emerging in deeper troughs as prone, stone, buried backs of upended, barnacle encrusted gargoyles. Here an emerald backwash, transforms into a pool of aqua blue, whose surface is fertilized with the sun's occasional wriggling, scintillating sparkles, then turquoise, as it rushes out, in a contractual push, to deeper sapphire waters and finally violet mauve toward the horizon, the place of solar birth.

On this tie-dyed, distant blanket, occasional scattered splashes of mother's milk are quickly absorbed, where wind beheaded waves have lost their balance tumbling in premature breaks.

This halcyon face can change in an instant with the weather's mood from the serene smooth surface of a sunny day, to the angry, black, tempestuous, thundering, tirade of a raging storm's shrieking travail, holding lightning's forked trident in hand.

Beneath the swells of this chameleon, dimpled, covering, each mounting wave reveals the bloated, bulging belly of Tiamat, the pregnant leviathan of chaos and creation, rising and falling with each breath in the treacherous currents below. Here, in this prehistoric amniotic fluid, rests the beginning of life, that, eons past, crawled from this rocking, cradle of the sea, to walk the land.

In the distance, the haze of the sky melts into the oceans horizon that indistinguishably leaves a mist of mystery, a blur of uncertainty, as to where earth, sky and water end and where myth begins. Buried in its depths, hidden under its fathoms, lie all of our unborn as well as ancient, ancestral fears, dreams and hopes.