Salt life. For some in Florida, it's a way of life, as they call it. Salt life people have a different way about them, but very few actually understand the meaning. Salt life is, for lack of a better explanation, the embracing of the ocean culture, the water way. Most of the times, when you see someone claiming 'the salt life', it's accompanied by an eye roll, a nudge, a shrug in knowing that what salt life is isn't what they claim it to be. Standing on a balcony, under a nearly full moon, listening to the constant, never ending sounds of surf rushing the sands in it's final coda before the cycle repeats, it becomes clear what the salt life is. The ocean is a powerful force, not understood by many for it's true wonder. The moonlight shows the new beach exposed by the low tide, 100 yards of new sand and shore covered by water during the day, seen by few at night, where the ocean gives true wonder for all the senses. You can smell the salt on the gentle breeze pushed ashore by the ever pounding waves. Long lines of breakers, starting as a small crest of white, expanding out to dozens of yards in length, rolling slowly, ever so slowly, towards it's repose. It's long, booming sighs as the crests break create a calm, a balance, a need, a yearning, to always be basked in the majesty of it's never ending actions. Imagining it does it not the justice it deserves. To experience it requires no actions than to stand, to witness, the sheer power of a cycle that has happened for eons before your interjection into it's occurrence, to be humbled by the knowledge it will continue long after you have past from it's influence. It's a wonder the world gives us, a gift of experience, of awe. It's done so simply, just a repeating action, effortless in the fact that it always is, and always will be. But that motion gives one pause to think, to spend interior moments contemplating not the meaning of life, but how to find more of life's meaning. The base needs will always take care of themselves. The human needs, however, must be taken care of. To willingly embrace something not human, something not affected by the small little specks of life that forever are at the whim of such magnificent, simple power, takes no effort beyond just understanding that what you are experiencing is a singular moment that should be treasured, remembered, and saved forever in the depths of a mind always willing to take on new emotional travelers that inhabit small snippets of time. As I watch the breakers do their slow dance, I can't help but get the sensation of how small we are. Not an insignificant small, but small in a manner of witness, of recalling yet another dance of nature which blesses the senses, allowing you to contemplate more. A simple action unending that bears truth that time will go on as it always has, but our window to witness this march is finite. To spend the time enthralled in the marvel of the ocean and it's ways is not something one should consider a waste.