Ocean Waves

When I was young, from twelve to fourteen, I lived in Del Mar, California. For much of each of those years my family and I lived right on the beach in an old, two story rental house. Each night the pounding of the surf was my lullaby. Each day those ocean waves marching endlessly toward our shore was an invigorating panoramic drama. The season, the tide and the wind together sculpted those waves as they rose rhythmically from the sea. During and after a winter storm they could be alarmingly loud and large (and alarmingly close to our house). In the summer when the strong, arid Santa Anna winds came roaring in from the east the top of each wave was blown backwards and ripped into a plume of fine spray. At dawn. when the wind was still, the Pacific swells approaching from the west and into the morning sun, turned pink as they heaved themselves skyward, their smooth faces steepening before they crashed noisily down into themselves. Each wave ended its long, ocean journey as a thin, lacy fan of green water and white foam sweeping up the gentle slope of our beach, then pausing before sliding back into the devouring sea.

Here, culled from Flickr, is a gallery of Ocean waves in all their size, shape, color and glory:




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