Dear North Sea,
I always felt at home at your shores. It was love at first sight – a kid that loves the sea cannot but fall in love with you. True, your coasts are stormy from time to time. Your wind blows hair into your visitor’s faces, much to my exasperation. It soughs coldly through the stitches in my knitted jumper, reminding me of the fact that I could easily avoid being at the mercy of your moods by dressing properly. You, dear North Sea, are completely unimpressed by this. You let your froth spray at dikes and dams. You are cold and intractable. Rarely warm and calm. Sometimes you are gone, and then you are back sooner than people can find their ways out of the tide flat.
Dear North Sea, we have known each other for many years. At Amrum, the most beautiful of all North Sea islands, we met when I was a child. The fun I had there was infinite in the many holidays I spent at the place with my granny and gramps. We collected shells and built sand castles, and fortresses from pine cones for wild rabbits. We walked barefoot to the beach on timber planks and that used to be the best walk of each day. Even when it was cold, gramps and I went swimming and Granny would wait at the beach to greet us with bathing gowns once we got out of the water. The three of us would cuddle up in a roofed wicker beach chair and share cookies with sea gulls. On rainy days we protected our feet with wellingtons and persevered on the beach. If the rain got too strong, we would hide in an abandoned beach house.
Dear North Sea, don’t worry, I can forgive you for being so moody. Because each time I come back to visit you, you are tame as well. You blow away the rain clouds and make way for the tiny, friendly cotton clouds. You let the sun shine on the beach. I guess you were just as happy as I to see us again, Granny and me, and Mom and Julia – if only for a day.
Dear North Sea, it has been an honor, once more.
See you soon. Anna.