I can hear the ocean.
I sign “ocean” to the deaf child, he stands facing the immortal sea—his
first time—he wanders through the surf, in wonder.
I want to tell him about the sound….
….no, many sounds:
muted roar like
distant traffic,
a chaos of splashes,
the sea bed murmuring,
sometimes not quite
silent,
endless, returning
rhythm of a great piston,
the chuffing of the
gods’ machine....
From any aspect it surrounds, soothes….
a transfixing sound that starts new thoughts but never finishes them,
a garden of sounds, you stand among them and you feel it, somehow you
grow.
My rudimentary signing fails me.
“The sound is wonderful,” I say.
“I see,” he says.
September 15, 2010
Avon, NC, on the Outer Banks
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