Here's the first paragraph:
Why is the ocean so alluring? Is it admiration of size? Waters that sail far beyond the horizon, or the waves, like fire that reach for the sky and sparkle like the stars against a pitch black canvas? Perhaps it’s the wind, smells and sounds associated with the infinite freedom felt the moment briny wind invades your nostrils and possesses your thoughts. Memories of this and more had me out the door before my husband finished his invite to Thunder Hole, Acadia National Park, Maine on a beautiful August afternoon. Three-and-a-half hours later we arrived at a wonder of nature, to this day, twenty years later, I’ve not forgotten.
And the last:
I closed my eyes and committed to memory the rounded, smooth rocks contrasted by the ragged edges of broken granite. I inhaled the briny air and smiled. I couldn’t wait to return, to taste the salt, to hear the laughter of the gulls and the roar of the dance. In the meantime, its power would hold me, its memory sustain me.
Happy submitting and sitting on pins and needles.