It’s big, unforgiving, moody, and secretive. I enjoy being on the ocean on the beach where my boots can sink in to the sand, my ears listen to the waves crashing down, and my eyes enviously observe all the little tiny dots of people, sea animals, and birds off in the distance gracefully navigating the restless water (yes, I wear fucking boots on the beach, more than one has chastised me over it before). This is however, when I am on land and the likelihood of some giant earth worm from hell coming up and chewing off one of my appendages or suddenly being thrown off kilter and being swallowed up by the ground is pretty infinitesimal – earthquakes excluded. Solid ground is where it’s at in my books, and my imagination is a complete jerk.
So against all odds, I managed to squeak out a more-confident-than-I-felt “Yes, that sounds amazing!” before the rest of my logical and safety-concerned self could shove a dirty sock in my mouth and prevent me from signing on to what my brain was convinced was certain death.