The ocean rocked me in its arms and lessened my sadness. I love the cool sea breeze that, on sunny days, lifts kites into the air and dots the sky with color; the gulls that call to one another while they glide on eddying currents in the wind; the feel of salt water against my skin; the crash of the waves on my body. There I will retreat from the world, to veil myself in mist and cloak myself in fog, to disappear into the antiquity of the ocean. It is, in a way, a mother to us all. I was ruler of my own little kingdom, a subject of Poseidon. I will be peaceful, a subject of Poseidon. Sometimes, though, I"tmd stay too long and get caught on one side of the sea wall by the tide. I was sad that night, watching the pinpoints of light slowly disappear but the memory is not an unhappy one. The lights of the harbor glided, shimmering, across the water, and a gleaming crescent moon graced the dark sky overhead. I will look out upon the moonlight glinting off the waves and listen to the rhythmic, melodic crash of waves against the shore. The damp, metal railing I held was cool to the touch and the ship rocked gently. I can remember standing on the upper deck of a ship, late at night, watching the land slip away and melt into the darkness. The ocean is many, many things to me; it nourishes my spirit like food nourishes my body. I loved walking to the sandbar and seeing all the life.