Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Angry Sea

One of the weird things about America is that it's so bloody big! Nearly two and a half thousand miles separate New York City from Los Angeles - and in between the two are an awful lot of cornfields (and mountains, cows, diners, the world's biggest ball of twine and other stuff like that.)

Which means that there are an astonishing number of Americans who don't live anywhere near the sea.

To a Brit, such as myself, this is pretty weird. England's such a small place, you're never more than a couple of hours away from the ocean and I've always lived significantly closer to it than that. I spent months on Tresco, in the Isles of Scilly, and used to go to sleep to the sound of the lapping waves. Likewise, I had an apartment in Saint Valery en Caux that overlooked the harbour - with the sound of the clonking yacht masts lulling me to dreamland.

Living near the ocean means you get to experience more than just the sandy summer you might enjoy at a Myrtle Beach Resort. You get to see the full spectrum of the ocean's character - which varies on a daily basis. One day, it can be utterly still - like a glassy mirror stretching out into the horizon. Another day can see the waves reaching thirty feet into the air and crashing against the rocks like Neptune's angry fists.

So although most people tend to visit beach side locations, like the Myrtle Beach Resorts in South Carolina, during the summer months - they're not getting the full picture when they do. The sea is at it's most fascinating when the beach isn't laden with sun worshippers.

Here are some pictures of the ocean - and a reason why I never want to live too far away from it. It's mood varies on an hourly basis kind of like a [insert chauvinistic feminine comparison here]:




(All these pictures were taken at Myrtle Beach Accomodations in South Carolina.)

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