When I was a boy, the sea was immense and daunting. It chilled my bones and pulled me away from my mother.
When I was more of a fool than a young man, the sea was staggering in its enormity and held terrors and wonders in the same hand. In my dreams, I approached and even mingled with them under the cover of sleep, but balked at the same when the sun rose.
When I was less of a man than I would admit, I learned about the world, and the oceans shrunk. I no longer gazed at dappled waves but at clouds of spices drifting from distant shores.
When I was enough of a man to justify my boasts, the sea became again truly immense. The land had yielded to me its secrets, but the sea remained, and I dove undaunted into its depths.
Room for Wonder 