Taking arms against a sea of troubles... is the sea full of trouble? Does it cast about its waves in defiance of peace and prosperity? Island life is always centered on the surrounding ocean. The very definition of "island" is more about water than land.
In my eyes, the ocean that surrounds me looks like a protecting embrace. The sea holds me up, balancing my fragility between the deep of the sky and the deep of the underwater chasm. The sea wrinkles her forehead in what looks like unsatisfied jealousy, but really she is weighed heavy with burdens. Her visage is made stern, not by anger, but by care.
I see the Pacific Ocean every day. It is always in my subconscious. When I drive around the island, the sea is always showing her face at unexpected moments. I could be cruising along a boring stretch of road (Jack Johnson in the background) and suddenly a wedge of ocean hovers up on the horizon just to say hello. The road bends along, turning about every which way, and five minutes later the ocean shows up again. Just like Lewis Carroll's Looking Glass House. Maybe if I turn around backwards, I'll drive straight into the sea and sail off to other shores...
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