I love all aspects of water. I luxuriate in the feel of it on my skin when it is hot (hot bubble baths, steam rooms, hot tubs and even drinking hot tea). I adore the cooling sensation to my body when doused in cold water (chilly babbling brooks, cold plunges at Ten Thousand Waves Spa in Santé Fe, our chilly pool early in the season and of course an icy cold glass on a hot day). I even appreciate drinking plain ‘ol lukewarm tap water (if it isn’t chlorinated ☺). Part of this love of water is due to my fondness for its texture, (see Texture is essential). Water makes up much of life—quite literally—thus the quality of water is unmatched by anything.
I love the sounds of water (see Magical Moment Mondays: Sounds of Water). From roaring waves to faucet streams, there is nothing I don’t love about water sounds. Today I am particularly enjoying the gentle rain. As I lay in bed this morning it was a most wonderful sleepyhead time. There was a gentle rain making noises while the early birds chirped (and got their worms, I presume). I was lulled into sleep and lazily woke up, then drifted back to sleep several times (unusual for me). I could hear the sound of my cat’s fountain flowing in the other room but mostly what I heard was the soothing hum of showers. The lapping of the raindrops formed different textural sounds depending on what surface they hit. The drops on the roof perhaps were the most comforting sound, though I also love the tinny sound of the raindrop on the metal air conditioning unit. There was no wind to speak of so the sounds of water were unmasked, raw, pure, gentle and loving.
I have always loved water; yes my astrological sign is Cancer the crab. My mom is also a water sign—Pieces the fish—and she loves water too. As a child, one of my favorite times was sitting in the bathroom talking to my mom while she took long hot soaks in the bathtub. We’d talk about anything and everything while she relaxed and heated herself in the therapeutic hot water.
Many of my most poignant memories, not surprisingly, involve water (See Walking around a lake for a great memory with my brother.) I have vivid childhood memories of trips to the Jersey shore with my friends and their families. Though I certainly did go to the beach with my family when I was very young (as proven by the photo above), most of my memories are with my childhood friends and their families when I was a little older. At Beach Haven on Long Beach Island with Dawn, I chased waves back and forth along the shoreline when I stayed with her family at their summer rental. Nathalie and I would take her father’s hand—one of us on each of his sides—and hazard the big booming waves at Island Beach State Park. I would come home from these trips sun kissed (well—sometimes sunburned) and feeling nourished from all the exposure to water.
As a young adult, I was fortunate to live on Maui one summer between college and graduate school with my friends Mary Lee and Amy. I made magnificent use of the abundance of water. Hours sitting at the beach and jumping in the ocean waves, the road to Hana with stops by every waterfall and pond possible, and the magnificent Pools of ‘Ohe’o (aka Seven Sacred Pools) were indeed all sacred spots of water for me. I took my husband, Andy, to visit all of those dreamy locations as soon as I could. Together we visited Hawaii during our second year of marriage while we lived in cold and snowy Ohio. We made an escape to balmy Maui and Kauai for our second wedded Christmas and New Years. Now my main source of water is our pool during summer and bubble baths all year long. And if I am lucky, a gentle rain like today.