Last year I started a bi-monthly recurring themed post on the site centered around my reflections of a specific word in the alphabet. The premise was I would randomly open the dictionary to a page within a specific letter and then arbitrarily select a word from the page to write about. The second entry was Y for Yanquapin and it proved to be a fun challenge.
The new word is xerote and the dictionary definition is “the condition of not containing or being covered by a liquid (especially water).” Three stories about water in a row seems to constitute a trend, but this one is a little hard to get around.
The ocean holds a pretty big allure for me. I feel a strong desire to live close to a large body of water. In Jersey it’s been the Hudson, the Delaware, the Atlantic. In CT it was the Connecticut River and the Long Island Sound. In MD it was the Chessapeak Bay. And so on. There’s something inspiring about being able to look out across the water and only see more water along the horizon and just dream up what be in the beyond. There’s something calming about the way big water kisses its shoreline that’s different from any regular river or lake. It undulates from seemingly glassy seas to pulsating whitecaps.
Writers pour words onto pages about the mysteries of the oceans that are almost as big as the waters they seek to