Ocean Treasures

No one writes blog posts anymore because no one reads them anymore. By no one, of course, I only mean very few. But most people seem to only want their information in the abbreviated squares of Insta or the shortened text of a tweet. No one reads blogs anymore like no one writes letters to mail off or how no one picks up an old book to read to drink in the smell of the worn paper or feel the rough edges of a well-loved classic.
I can be guilty of it, too. Scrolling through my feed, I think- Get to the point. What's the article about? I prefer the bullet points. Perhaps that's the problem. No one is taking the time to craft their words. No one is taking the time to read. To quote Brooks Hatlen, "The world went and got itself in a big damn hurry."
But reading and writing is a part of so many of us. We need the words like we need other things. Flossing. Water intake. Coffee. If I don't partake in those, I'm going to surely regret it. Reading and writing is the same for me. Many times I fall into a rhythm of snapping eighty five photos of one single moment thus barely stopping to take it in. It's like that photo of the elderly woman with her hands resting folded over some gate with no camera, no phone, and a contented smile while an enormous crowd around her is excitedly taking picture after picture of whatever or whoever they are there to see. I thought of this while we were at the beach last week. I live with one foot in a world where documentation is paramount and the other foot back in a simpler time when the thought to take a picture hardly ever crossed the mind.
Some of my favorite memories do not have a corresponding photo to accompany them.
It was our honeymoon. We took it six months after getting married, but we called it a honeymoon just the same. Any break after a long Alaska winter was to be celebrated. Our celebration of choice? The Big Island of Hawaii. Our adventurous spirits left us with an over-planned vacation and the goal to be certified scuba divers at the conclusion of it. That meant, we spent a ton of time on a boat and under water instead of drinking up the sun on the rocky beaches or laying in a hammock intertwined as would have been appropriate for two people newly in love, yet to be distracted by children or work.
It was a wonderful break. We took a few photos, of course, but for the most part our bodies were exhausted from fighting the ocean. Kicking and fighting, wave after wave. I don't regret anything. It was an amazing experience to be able to breathe underwater and swim alongside exotic fish and even sharks. One day, we had double dives planned. If you want to be certified, you have to have a certain amount of hours and dives logged underwater. We were living in Alaska and were not interested in a cold water dive, thank you very much. We had to get our time in while we were in Hawaii. Anyway, we had finished our first dive and were waiting on the boat with the captain and crew for the next one to start. Muscles sore from the exertion and eyes tired from the lack of sleep, we were fine to lean up against the starboard side and sit there until the time expired. But one of the dive instructors, a native Hawaiian with his long hair in a bun and his love for the water ever apparent, made his way over to tell us of a pod of dolphins that were approaching the boat. "You do this at your own risk, but do it! Quick! Grab your snorkel gear and jump in!"
That's how we managed an experience of a lifetime- swimming with dolphins in the wilds of the Pacific Ocean. It was intimidating and exhilarating. The precision of their movement is incredible. Fast, sure movements. Superior, free swimmers darting all around us. We became their school, their pod. We could reach out and touch if they would let us, but I didn't dare. I just watched, amazed. Now, every time I see a dolphin from far out, I remember our days in Hawaii and how we were the lucky ones. I have only my memory and a few words to recall that day, but man, what a treasure.