When I was little I would often wonder what it would be like to be able to contain a piece of ocean in your arms, with out a container. As if it were a tangible thing, the waves leaping and jumping, constantly churning. What a juggling act that would be trying to keep the playful waves from escaping back into the sea. Spilling over my arms and shoulders only to be hauled back into their niche cradled softly in my arms. It seems silly, but I could almost imagine it, so slippery, slick and smooth, my little fingers trying desperately to clutch it as it frenziedly tried to escape. I imagined my self an octopus needing all my arms to keep it in place, but it would still ooze through the cracks in my fingers and arms. Today I finally had the ocean in my arms . . .
I held my nine month old son. (Boy, can he wiggle!!)