Ocean, Pacific Ocean!

When I look out at the ocean, this ocean, my brain cells seem to  say ‘time to play!’
Significant bodies of water prior to this sparkling beauty, that this body, these eyes, have beheld and lived chapters with.
 Lake Michigan. Soft sand burying my toes while my sister and I pull horsetails apart and try to put them together again on the dunes, while the sun sets into the  lapping, breaking waves. My dad’s chuckles and my brothers’ gasps of delight as the campfire splutters and crackles and soon sizzling hotdogs and burnt marshmallows oozing and dripping. All happening while my lightly tanned beautiful mother is obsessively hunting for the perfect petosky stone. She is queen of this and will no doubt succeed. 
The Indian Ocean in Sri Lanka.  Late afternoon shadows as the sun casts golden light on  fishermen’s dark wet shimmering  skin, while they are tossing and hauling their nets in at this perfect time. My sister and I are bicycling as fast as we can to get home before dark. Brahminy kites soar above looking for dead fish to feast on, and fresh tender coconuts are waiting for us.
The Atlantic Ocean, the Sullivans Island beach.  As the sun rises, trying to get a whiff of cool before the summer heat sets in, Julius and I are padding in and out of the water, my daughters, heads together, are quietly chatting as crabs are scurrying hither and yon in the gullies.  A feeling of ‘all is well with the world’.
And now this, the Pacific Ocean. My ocean. And Dad’s ocean. This is the ocean that Dad sailed away on before I was born, during World War Two. This is the ocean where his island of Tinian lay, and where his entire life path became clear to him. I look out and see him, feel him, and Tinian is still there, over there, somewhere. Thank you, Pacific Ocean.
My worlds have come together through nature, once again.I am grateful and in awe.