#writephoto: call of the sea witch

heather 2015 derbyshire, higger tor, beeley circle, edensor, bak 038

image: scvincent – walking on air

There it was again – that lonely, whistling, whispering sound. The sea-witch wind against the rocks. For this would be the place to find a mystic. Hard granite, soft peat. The blurring of land and sea by the oozing bay bottom at tide’s turn. Clouds sketching out the delineation horizon point.

I didn’t not come to seek a witch, nor anything of the fey past. I came with my camera and a broken heart. Better my heart than the Nikon I thought. Taking pictures made me focus on something outside of myself and my stupid petty life. Editing, manipulating, playing with the results continued the distraction. “Don’t think, don’t feel” was my mantra in those days.

The sea witch called again; her song louder, the pipes sweeter. I swirled, whirled to the strange rhythm. With each song cycle, I removed another item of clothing. Dancing down to the bay at the turning of high tide. Dancing naked, feeling the cold sting of sea against my skin. But the song kept calling, telling me not to yield to the cold or the salty depths. Just keep dancing out beyond the breakers. Out to sea. Out to free.

Written for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto: walking on air

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11 thoughts on “#writephoto: call of the sea witch

  1. I’m not sure if you meant it to, but the ending of this story evoked a feeling of great sadness. I can remember living on the coast of California, and wanting to just walk out into the ocean and keep on going.

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    • “Yes,” she said. “The sea witch was calling her to her; to walk out into the water and be free.” She added, “I’ve decided to add triggers as a category and attach a warning. Much of my writing right now is of the sort that can trigger. I know that’s dangerous and painful, but it’s also what’s inside my head.” “And, I’ve thought the same about the Atlantic, but more about waves sweeping me away — water temperature or imagery, I’m not sure,” she sighed. “I am sorry I made you sad by remembering”

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      • Oh no, that’s not what I intended by my comment! A trigger warning wasn’t necessary, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I enjoyed the post, I suppose the point I was making was that it was full of powerful imagery (excellent writing), and that’s simply how I felt when reading it. It wasn’t really my own sadness I felt, it just seemed as if I was feeling sadness for the woman in the story.

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    • “Mostly,” she said, “it was the times I heard the sea witch.”

      “Lately, it’s been mentioned that I write triggering-ing material, I should let folks know if contains references to abuse, etc. as a warning since this is creative writing blog, not one dealing with such issues,” she sighed. “Perhaps I’ll just go back to not implying anything, else it’s ac ;)

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  2. An interesting response to the photo my friend. Seeking escape from life’s pain is something we all seek and I hope you find yours in places other than the sea’s depths.

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    • “Thank you for you thoughtful comments, she said”
      She sighed, “I’ve heard the sea-witch song for a very long time. The silken whisper, the feral beat. Doesn’t mean I plan right now to dance beyond the breakers.”
      She added, “If there was an equally compelling; equality seducing song from the forest, or the river, or the meadow. There might be slight dapples of sun. Sea-witches thrive on fog and discord, pain and hopelessness. The other song, perhaps a jig, a waltz, a pagan swing, warms the soul, not freezes the bones.”
      “Some, I think naturally, have that alternative song born into their heart, even if the melody takes years to break free.”
      She smiled, maybe someday I’ll write about that song.”

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    • “Yes,” she agreed, “it is sad when the sea witch’s song is too seductive, and seems to wishiper that all the voices and troubles will be soothed, or as you say silenced, by the sea.”

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the time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things . . .

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