Eternal Fascination of Waves

I long to feel the caress of the water, the flow of the molecules around my skin. The energy of a far off power as the waves break on the shore where I am. The dream is of a huge, nebulous wall but the reality is that the tiniest ripple brings me back to a giddy child hood.

As I have gotten older I have found the patience to sit for hours watching the subtle changes roll by. The difference of the curl from one to another. The effects of the size on the breaking shape. Some breaking in a defiant collapse as the base can no longer hold the weight of the peak as it surges. Others creating a bubble filled pile as it pushes ever shoreward.

 Amazingly, all the endless variations can be delineated by a mathematical formula far beyond the grasp of my simple mind. The force vectors and bottom shape all combining into a final blow. Dissipating all the energy that has traveled so far in thunderous crash or a unimpressive gurgle.

Never diminishing the beauty of the lines and curves because it can all be defined in a sequence of numbers. The art is the simplicity that it creates. The colors reflected by the surface and ripples. Constantly changing but forever the same. A push from afar that perpetually transfers energy directly to me that I feel the need to harness.


The simple beauty of a wave never ceases to amaze me and can keep my attention for days on end. Endless upon any shore, the only constant is that they are never the same.