To properly follow along with this story it will be helpful to engage a little imagination.
We’re standing in the ocean, the waves are lapping up to our chest; you can feel the sand sifting through your toes when the current pulls the water back out to sea. We’re rhythmically being rocked back and forth by the waves of the ocean. The water is cold, but feels comfortable with the warm sun on our shoulders.
A few of us are on a fun get-away, you included. We’re at the Outer Banks, it’s the NE corner of North Carolina, right on the ocean. The beach goes for miles, it’s all soft sand and the sound of crashing waves. It’s a lazy warm Summer day, even hot for someone not accustomed to the humidity of the Carolinas. It’s mid Afternoon, only a handful of clouds dot the sky. There is a slight breeze, and you can smell the salt from the sea, it permeates the entire island. You can see and hear the sea gulls caw, kids are running around, playing with kites, frisbees or on a skim board. Some are out walking the zig zag path right at the continually moving edge of the sea, or lying about, soaking up the sun.
From this point of the Atlantic Ocean you could start sailing for Europe and only arrive 4-6 weeks later. The ocean is vast! You cup your hand, and dip it into the ocean, and extract a handful of water. I ask you, “Is that the Ocean, there in your hand?” We walk up onto the beach, you, still holding the Ocean in your hand. And again, “is it still the Ocean?” We walk back to our temporary residence, it’s a beach home, and it’s only a block away. It follows a little path right between two sand dunes, and a small little bridge. Still holding the water in you hand, wondering, “is this still the Ocean?” If not, when did it stop, and what would it take to again be?