The Sea

It is summer time in Germany. June and July are the hottest months here in central Europe and gradually all the German countries have entered their summer break. Some, like Niedersachsen, Thüringen and Sachsen-Anhalt started it on June 26 already and Bayern being the last country in the line will be off duty after August 2.

Most of the Germans are indeed out for their summer break, even if only for a week or two. And among the most desired destinations is just any place with a beach, a shore, a cliff or fjord. With this coming to my mind it makes me think of the sea. It makes me picture the changing wind and how it blows the high tide towards the land, dark grey, with a silvery shine. I view the sea spray on the tip of the waves rising with the fresh breeze. I see the tideways in the sand getting filled with water and the wind driving foam and dried seaweeds.

And then there it is, the sea: dancing lights on bright turquoise, white foam on pitch-dark surge. The sea has a thousand colours and as many faces in its eternal change of ebb and flood. This has ever since been the source of ballads, ghosts and spooks. It has been interwoven with fairy tales, legends, myths and saga. This makes me wonder how many secrets the sea holds, how many stories it could tell.

And still more comes to my mind: How many feed and how many live form the sea? And what does it take to live from the sea? Some strong arms, a fishing net and a boat? The sea has always been rich, has always provided sufficient food, work and earnings. Fathers have passed their trade to their sons. How many have tied their fortune to the sea, how many have linked their lives to it? And how many boats and ships can it carry? Now and all over the globe?

But also I wonder how many of these ships and boats now sleep on the seafloor, all loaded with treasures, but crushed by the storm? Indeed, the sea is about come and go, about give and take, as is the to and fro, the ebb and the flood, fickle like the wind. It is tender and cruel, gentle and violent, life and death, and it educates us how tiny we are.

Our gratitude however is paltry: We pollute the sea, we destroy its plants and poison its animals. Whatever creepers or floaters there are is easily perished in oil and tar. We soil and spoil, we hurt and harm. The shores we spoil by the ugly we spill.

Rent a room! Book a hotel! Enjoy yourself! Have a great time! Buy at the store! Eat at the diners! Just drop your junk! I want to believe that the high tide is yet to come and wash it all away!

Romping and roaring the sea waves stroke the cliffs. Its power is unbroken. I can hear the thunder, I can see the power. I can sense the salty taste on my lips. No, no sea will not easily surrender to us. No matter how much we poison it, despise it, disgrace it! I want to believe it is powerful enough to shake us off, wash us away, to drown us and cover us, who are so thoughtless and careless, so ignorant. I want to trust that we cannot unbalance the sea, no matter how hard we try.

We need the sea, the sea does not need us.