Proctor's Ocean Classroom aboard the schooner Roseway has made its way through a few days of waiting for Hurricane Joaquin to head to sea, and recently sailed into Manahattan. Their nine week journey along the eastern seaboard en route to Puerto Rico continues to bring out the best in each student as they encounter unforeseen challenge, inclement weather, hands-on learning, research projects, seasickness, and new perspectives.
Something about the rain has always entranced me. Ever since I was a little girl I have been fascinated by the way it made tiny ripples in the water, how it pooled at the bottom of the front porch, and the way it beat against my window, always lulling me to sleep.
Something about sailing has always excited me. When I was a child I would press my hands against the cool glass of the car window and peer though at any vessels we happened to pass by. I would stay awake at night and think about the way they bob in the water and imagine looking into the billowing sails as they brought me to foreign lands.
Today on bow watch those two dreams collided: the sailing and the rain. My younger self would have collapsed with joy if she could have seen me today. I stood in the rain for an hour as it poured down in sheets. The small drops felt like daggers as they pelted my skin. The strong gusts nearly blew me over as they came in waves, each one stronger than the last. The weather has never been worse while I’ve been aboard Roseway. But I can’t complain. Because the billowing sails above my head are bringing me to foreign places and the rain is making millions of tiny ripples on the surface of the water. I can’t complain because standing in that wind and rain is something I’ve always wanted, and it is exactly like I’d always imagined.
Tears are salt water
Like the oceans waves
they rise they break and they crash
unto the beaches of our cheeks
They wash away debris.
They refine rough rocks and
soften the edges of thousand year old cliffs
On their own, like the ocean they make decisions
to wage war.
Like storms barreling up the coast
They come instantaneously
They change course and they find new
grounds to break
Like the tsunamis that invade the
Philippine coast they can wreck good sunny days.
They take the softness of clouds and the breeze
and mould them into dark forceful representations of destruction
They like the storm and seas can represent death and pain and loss
They are like the badges of strife and pain
The outer shell of relief and comfort
The expression of love and joy
In their liquid form they inspire empathy and sympathy
tears are the salt of the eyes they bring forth the
cries of the soul.