The sea has always been a mystery for people; they’ve always been fascinated by the sea. Through history, the sea has been associated with depth, with gods, with impossible love, with mythological creatures, with tremendous adventures that terrify and amaze at the same time. For me the sea is an old friend who makes me believe in magic over and over again. It’s strange and funny how every single year I return to the sea, I watch the water for a few seconds, and I feel as if it is my first time. I fall in love again and again; I touch the sand with my bare feet, and I feel like coming home.
The first time I went to the sea this year, I met my old friend at La Ciotat, 40-minutes away from Aix by bus.
The sand was hot and displeased with my long absence; at first he seemed angry and hostile, but after a few seconds, he gave in and welcomed my feet with a shy shade of laughter and happiness. I felt the sea with my toes, with my feet, with my legs, and with my hands. Then I just jumped in with my whole body. For a second, the very first second, I was sure that eternity was mine to give and take and live. The salt embraced my body, and I am sure that for a moment there, I was endless. The water touched my hair, kissed my lips, and made me believe that stories and movies and books can become reality.
There are moments in life when, for no particular reason, you are overwhelmed with happiness and peace. For me, the afternoon we spent at the beach was one of those moments. Lying down facing the sun with my eyes closed, with my hands playing softly with the sand, listening to the whisper of waves… That is perfection!
Not many people know, but the sea is the keeper of stories, secrets, lost souls. So maybe, if you listen careful enough, one summer afternoon, the waves will reveal some stories, and the salt will murmur the names of some lost souls. As for secrets, they are forever buried in water.