If you’re new here, Tell Us About is a monthly blogging challenge where a group of us come together to explore a single prompt—each in our own voice, from our own little corner of the world. It’s one of those lovely, low-pressure creative spaces where there are no rules, just stories, thoughts, and honest reflections. Last month, we explored Dreams, and this month, Rosie has given us the theme of Water.
Water. The stuff of life. H₂O. Something so simple, yet so completely essential. Some people love it, others think it tastes like absolutely nothing (which, I suppose, is kind of the point). Personally, I love drinking water. It always feels like I’m doing something quietly kind for my body—like a little act of self-care that no one sees but me. But today, I don’t really feel like talking about that side of water.
I want to talk about the ocean. Because water, in that sense, is something else entirely. The ocean is vast. Powerful. Beautiful… and, if I’m being honest, utterly terrifying. It covers so much of the Earth, yet we know so little about it. That alone is enough to give me the chills. There’s something about standing in front of that endless stretch of moving water that makes you feel very small, very human. It demands respect in a way nothing else quite does. And yet… I love it. Not in a “let’s dive in and go swimming with the waves” kind of way. Oh no. I’m far too much of a wimp for that. I much prefer being beside it. Sitting quietly, watching it ebb and flow. Listening to the rhythm of it—whether it’s gently lapping at the shore or dramatically crashing against the cliffs. There’s something almost hypnotic about it. Magical, even.
I can swim, but waves? That’s a different story. I’ve had a couple of moments in the past where waves felt absolutely enormous—far bigger than they probably were—and I remember being tumbled around underneath, completely disoriented, desperately trying to find the surface and catch my breath. That feeling stays with you. It teaches you very quickly that the sea is not something to mess with.
So now, I keep a respectful distance.
These days, I’m perfectly happy dipping my toes in, maybe wading up to my knees if I’m feeling brave, and then wandering along the shoreline. There’s nothing quite like that slow, cool creep of water after you’ve been lying in the sun. It’s refreshing in the most grounding way.
That said… I’m not exactly what you’d call a regular beachgoer—which is quite funny considering I live in the Algarve. You’d think I’d be there all the time, wouldn’t you? But honestly, I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to the beach in the past couple of years. I admire it more than I immerse myself in it. From afar, it feels safer. More peaceful.
But here’s the thing—I would absolutely love to live by the sea. Not on the beach itself, but up on the cliffs. Somewhere high enough to watch it all unfold below. A little house overlooking the ocean, with the sound of the waves constantly in the background… now that, to me, is the dream. Being able to wander down with the dog, maybe discover a quiet little cove that feels like your own secret place… it just sounds heavenly.
There’s something deeply spiritual about the sea too, don’t you think? It’s like it holds stories. Energy. Memories we can’t quite access but somehow feel.
And then there are the dreams. For years, I used to have recurring dreams about massive tidal waves—huge, towering walls of water chasing me as I tried to run. That feeling of urgency, of knowing you can’t outrun something so powerful… it’s intense. Even now, just thinking about it gives me that strange, unsettled feeling in my chest.
It reminds me of that scene in Deep Impact—when the tsunami is moments away, and the woman turns to her father and simply says, “Daddy.” That one word, right before everything is swept away… oh, it gets me every single time. Proper goosebumps. It’s one of those moments that really captures the raw, unstoppable force of water—and how fragile we are in comparison.
So yes, water is life. Gentle, nourishing, necessary. But it’s also wild. Unpredictable. Deeply powerful. And maybe that’s why I find it so fascinating.
Be sure to check out how my fellow co-hosts interpreted this month’s theme. It’s always fascinating to see the different angles everyone takes. You can find their posts here:
- Sally — Sally discusses birds seen and photographed near water. Within a World of My Own
- Marsha — Marsha always planned to retire to the East Coast. Unfortunately, Marsha also had three kids to put through college so she lives in landlocked Indiana. Read more about her hopes and dreams. Marsha In The Middle
- Rosie — Rosie talks about her love for the ‘vitamin sea’ that she gets from being near water and she tops it off with a few water themed books. Rosie Amber
- Debbie — Deb has shared quotes, photos and even poems to celebrate the precious resource of water in her life downunder. Deb’s World
- Leslie — This quote by Benjamin Franklin resonates with Leslie who lives in the Chihuahuan Desert of El Paso, Texas. “We know water to be precious, when the well is dry.” Once Upon a Time Happily Ever After.
And please link up all your posts here:
