Soaking in Oceans deep

Julia Stevens

Jun 22, 20175 min read

Psalm 42:7 (Amplified Bible)

Roaring deep calls to roaring deep at the thunder of your water sprouts; all Your breakers and Your rolling waves have gone over me.

Photo - Parker Fitzgerald

The wave - Pablo Neruda

The wave comes up from the bottom, with roots

that are daughters of the submerged firmament.

Its elasticity invasion was mounted by the pure potency of the Ocean:

its eternity came on inundating

the pavilions of deep dominion,

each essence offering resistance,

as it scattered cold fire from its waist

until from the boughs in full force

it loosed its snow topped might.

I wrote this blog entry on the hottest day in June in England in 41 years! The heat wave had me dreaming of deep waters. Hence this post is a collection of my many photos of the sea and reflecting on a few of my favourite places to take a dip.

The poem above is written by the brilliant Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. His description of a wave breaking combined with the photo above remind me of a rock pool that exists in Langebaan in the Western Cape, South Africa. Langebaan lagoon is an ancient landscape on the edge of the African continent that only a few fisherman, some seabirds and myself shared. (Also some pink rabbits living isolated on a tiny island in the bay. Eating the lichen and seaweed turns them a very faint pink colour!)

I spent a whole month in the area last year and every morning and late afternoon I visited this pool. A natural enclave of rocks, a deep swimming hole protected from the wider open ocean that swept past the rock entrance. Here the crashing waves trickled over the top of the surrounding rocks, filling the hole with bubbling froth, a natural jacuzzi. At low tide the water was only knee deep and a good place for a dip, bobbing up and down as the waves came in and out. Watching schools of minature fish swirling around my body. Seaweed swinging to and fro, a gentle caress. Pebbles and shells crushed into the base of the pool and crunching underfoot.

But at high tide, the pool was at its best, the water pouring in filled the pool until it was a couple of meters deep throwing me bodily backwards and forwards as huge amounts of saline water swept in and out, roaring though the narrow gaps in the craggy mineral rocks, tossing me like a cork around in the waves. Crashing and throwing curtains of salt spray over the tidal pool and up in clouds over my head, water swirling and roaring all around. I imagined myself right in the centre of God's love, breakers and rolling waves covering and carrying me.

The deep endless oceans are a great picture of God's love for us. Psalm 42 talks about how His love is as relentless as the crashing waves on the seashore. A never ending barrage of love. It never ceases and continues to overwhelm and engulf us day after day.

Taking a dip at high tide in my own special rockpool in Langebaan was an adrenalin rush, a battle with nerves. How long can I remain in this battering ocean in such a small enclosed space and not get crushed? Will I be thrown onto the rocks and cracked in two & will I avoid scratching myself against the rock pool walls? Can I survive in so much pounding water? In the same way, can I survive in God's relentless love. It is a fearful, humbling and wonderful thing to be embraced by the living God.

It comes on like a flower from the earth

advancing with decisive aroma

up to the magnitude of the magnolia;

but this flower from the depths already burst

brings along all the light ever abolished,

all the branches that never burned

and all the spring - source of whiteness.

The Needles on the Isle of Wight.

Below my brother and nephew wading at Clymping beach near Littlehampton.

Thus when its round eyelids,

its volume, its crests, its corals

swell the skin of the sea

and this whole essence of submarine essences appears,

it is the unity of the sea being built:

the column of the sea rising:

all its births and ship's defeats.

Haceta Head, Oregon.

The school of the salt opened its doors,

and all the light felt up to batter at the sky,

the leaven of wetted metal

fermented from night to dawn,

all clarity turned corolla,

This rose came to me on the waves, from who knows where? I watched it roll in and lie stranded on the pebbles at my feet last summer.

Rock balancing with nothing but the power of gravity on the beach at Lyme Regis.

the flower grew until it consumed the stone,

the sea - froth rive rose up to death

and the tempestuous plants were assailed,

and the rose overflowed the steel:

the bulwarks of the water bent

and the sea fell away spilling

its tower of crystal chill.

West Wittering near Chichester.

Being an island we are blessed with an abundance of options when it comes to a paddle in the ocean.

From sandy stretches of beach to pebbled havens. Above the Seven Sisters coastline, a dramatic backdrop of white cliff edged ocean.

Below, 2 moments captured on West Wittering beach. So much light bouncing off the waves. The delightful smile on this young ladies face showing her obvious affection for her dog.

Below, a retro look that took me back to an England of the past.

A beach on the Isle of Wight with my brother and nephew.

Clymping beach, Oliver and Poppy.

Lyme Regis, man and dog moment.

Oliver flying a kite at West Wittering.

My nephews many years ago. I just love the contrast of how small they are compared to the huge wooden breaker and the line of shoes laid out at the base.

And I had to throw in the photo below of my niece down in Brighton.

This classic car and the boats beyond was taken at Itchenor, near Dell Quay, Chichester. I love the muted weather worn colours of all the boats in the harbour.

Not forgetting my favourite place to swim, Lansallos in Cornwall. There is an unusually beautiful green colour to the water in Cornwall.

The champagne light of St Ives in Cornwall.

Just over the border, Devon has many beautiful coves such as Clovelly.

And this delightful spot ... The Pilchard Inn on Burgh island opposite Bigbury on sea.

Back closer to home ...

The far end of West Wittering beach, East Head National Trust site, its worth the walk to get away from the crowds and enjoy the quieter sand dunes and inlet.

On the opposite side of the water, the Isle of Wight and Cowes.

I've always loved the water, having grown up in my early years in a hot country where a swimming pool was essential to cool down. I think I was swimming by the age of 3 and had a green tint to my hair through the summer due to the amount of pool water & chlorine I was soaking in.

Here are a few more places that I love that are further afield, below is Mendocino in Northern California.

Haceta Head, Oregon. I once stayed in the lighthouse below. In the morning we were served an amazing breakfast peppered with produce straight out of the lighthouse garden.