There is something intoxicating about oceans that makes me walk straight into them like a sailor to the sirens. Scratch that. Like a bee to honey. Hmmm not quite. Like a drunkard to the bar? I can’t describe it. I just get this crazy love look in my eyes and a bounce in my step that is nothing but trouble.

This is the tidal pool in Cronulla, a coastal suburb of Sydney. I can’t believe how blue it is here. The ocean and the sky. I’ve seen a lot of ocean and a lot of sky in my life but this is something else. This is completely BIG and BRIGHT like something a child would color and you’d look and think silly child, oceans aren’t that blue, but it’s nice you’re still innocent to the imperfections of the world.

Well, I’m sorry hypothetical dreamer child. I was wrong.

That ocean exists and it lives in Australia.

Yesterday I walked straight into it. Except unlike this photo it was 4 pm and massive silvery dark waves the color of mercury were crashing into the pool as the tide came in.

A big part of me is still scared of the ocean, but it’s a justified reverential fear, like how you’d feel if you were standing in the middle of god.

There are maybe two or three other things that draw out my love look. No, none of them involve an actual flesh and blood human. That would be too easy.

One of the other things is this. Or rather, what’s down inside it.

Iridescent top shell (?) almost camouflaged against the rock.

Limpets, or as a friend calls them, mini volcanoes, looking dazzling and polished in the water. I love all the colors and patterns that happen on their small shells.

Sea snails huddled together as the sun sets.

You see, just next to that big blueness there’s a whole world of small things happening, and I love small things.

All the miraculous little lives, so much magic right under our noses.