There is something about the open sea that I love.

The long, luminous waves, unfurling and uncurling in the wake of the ship. A few days sail out of L.A., into the middle of the Pacific ocean and the waves have stretched themselves out, the longest waves I’ve ever seen. So different from the abrupt, choppy waves of the Atlantic.

They rock the ship; harshly, when it’s rough, gently, when it’s not. They rock the ship, and I, snug in my bed in the belly of the ship, with the waves in my ears, rock too…. And dream, sometimes, of floating.