She collected waves and covered her eyes with every 7th one.

There are so many saying and metaphors for life as train tracks or a river, but I prefer the version where life looks like an ocean, like a sea and hits us with waves – small ones, big ones, no waves at all or a friggin tsunami. You know, typical unpredictable sea behaviour, more unpredictable than toys in Kinder Surprise eggs. And we as little humans by the shore have the power to make the decision how close we want to get to the sea. It’s risky, because you might get the nice refreshing splash of water you needed on a hot sunny day or you might get swept off your feet and almost drown, coming up for air and regreting everything. And again it’s on us to stay the hell away from the beach and build a house deep in the forest with a sign NO TRESPASSING, forgeting about the sea or take a minute to catch our breath, saying “That’s all you got?” while spitting the rest of the water and diving right back in. Or like waiting for a bit, fine. Especially if you manage to step on a sea urchin as well, then take some extra time, okay? There should be salt water and time in every emergency kit if you ask me, ha.

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Collecting waves.
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Lookout tower, so you know when the real shitstorm is coming.
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If you’re more into watching other people get hugged by waves.
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Mostly empty.
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Take the road less traveled or the road with zero humans and cars.
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Wanderers.
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Never stop searching for great views.
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The wind almost took me away while I was taking this photo.
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Rocks, stones, pebbles.
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Wave away.
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These guys have a magnificent view.
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Professional stone pickers and zen rock constructers.

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I sure do love collecting waves big and small, but… There’s an old wives’ tail saying that every 7th wave is bigger than the rest of them. And I’m learning to embrace the 7th wave with my eyes open and with arms in the boxing stance, not just yelling LALALALA and trying to pretend there’s no such thing as sea anyway. We’ll SEA how that goes.
Ha ha ha! I shall stop now. I know, too far.

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Shoreline.
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Wilderness.
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Waves of hay.
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This is somewhere around Larnaca.

Now off I go catching more metaphorical waves for the time being. Until the next time I go to see the endless vast of blue I’ll be humming the song from Moana.
“One day I’ll know, if I go there’s just no telling how far I’ll go.”

Cheers to the mess we’ve made!

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