I love the story of the ocean. One day it is a lake, the next it is a washing machine. 

Like today. Unsafe for humans. Beautiful in its chaos. 

We work at being peaceful as people. Yet we need the space and place for the wild in us to come alive. 

Cultivating our inner wild in a way that does no harm to others.

The artist and paint. The singer and the song. The orator and the cry to act.

The writer and the pen.

I love my rage. I learn in my maturity to channel it into the wind, into words, into a call for better, for justice, for love. 

Sometimes I fail and it lashes. Other times it arrives and moves.

The ocean just does ocean. We learn to be respectful of its power, or we die. There is a lesson in that.

I find myself, once again, bowing in homage to Mother Nature on this wild morning.

Photo taken July 23rd 2022