Do you remember the first time you saw water that was so many different shades of blue and green it looked fake? I do. I grew up in New Jersey, less than a mile from the beach, so the ocean was always a navy-grayish color to me, and I still prefer it that way, big waves, dark sand, cold most of the year.
My family vacations when I was little didn’t take us far from home–my parents were big on short, educational road trips, usually to places ending in -burg (Gettysburg, Williamsburg, etc.) So I didn’t see a different kind of ocean until I was in college.
After my semester abroad in Dijon, France (go there too), my friends and I spent two weeks traveling around the South. My first glimpse of water like this was in Marseilles, the day we tool the ferry out to Ile D’if, the island made famous by The Count of Monte Cristo.
It’s been a long winter here in NYC and I’m looking forward to being able to go outside again without shivering. Until then I’ll be dreaming of the sun on my shoulders, salt water in my hair, and this surreal blue-green water.