A little over 3yrs ago I landed on the rocky shores of Newfoundland, fresh off the boat/ferry from my home of Hamilton. For the first very many months I was in a state of constant culture shock and homesickness for my old lifestyle in Ontario. I looked forward to the day of residency completion and leaving the island behind forever.
A year ago I moved to St. John's and found a new home. Walking out on the streets felt as comfortable as walking my backyard. I lived in a beautiful apartment with a beautiful view. My mentors there are the giants whose shoulders I stand upon now. I didn't get to spend a lot of time there. A lot of my time was flung on the road for electives and going to Labrador. Maybe as a result of that, it feels like I've only tantalizing been allowed to know St. John's.
I thought a month ago when I finally came home to Ontario that I would feel, well, at home. It doesn't quite feel like that. Hamilton has changed from when I knew it. My friends have moved cross country. I've even changed boyfriends. This isn't the same home that I left behind.
When I first got to Gander I longed for Hamilton. Now that I'm back home in Ontario, my heart yearns for the island.
Since we turned into Quebec my chest has ached every time I think of the ocean. For almost the entirety of the drive back from St. John's we were never more than a breath away from the ocean - whether steep cliffs or rocky shores. Every so often a turn of the road opened up the vista of crystalline blue before us. It seems so ridiculously sentimental and silly to actually miss the ocean, but it's my personal belief that anyone who doesn't long for the ocean hasn't lived for long enough beside the ocean.
I'm now so deep inland that the only waters are the great lakes. They're not much to complain about - the Group of Seven made lake scenery a cornerstone of their masterpieces - but it's just not the same. I miss the sharp crevasses that cut through the Newfoundland coast. I miss the casual whale sightings and pretending to be able to distinguish a humpback. I miss the rocky landscape that are a geologist's wild dreams (or at least job insurance). I miss a sky that seems to stretch forever when it's clear, but also temperamentally throws everything from hail to sun in a single afternoon at you. I definitely (in this oppressive humidity) miss the cool breeze that rolls off the ocean waves.
I miss the ocean the most.
A lake - even a Great Lake's - gentle lapping of waves that is stirred only by a passing yacht or heavy breeze does not pull me in as the Atlantic Ocean's raging turbulence. The ocean's roar seems to drown out all anxieties, fears, and generally tangled thoughts in a way that nothing else can. The crash of waves silences all else. I miss the hypnotic boil of the ocean that almost urges you to jump into its icy depths. I miss the white crests and the glittering blue under sunlight. I miss the dark blue depths and terrifying blackness in the night. I definitely miss its temperature like that of liquid ice on a hot day.
Life on the island always seemed to be so turbulent. Life here back "home" is...calm. Civilized. Like tepid bath water after hot springs and arctic pool plunges. I can't say I'm uncomfortable, but tonight I miss the outcrop of St. John's as much as I once missed the inner city of Hamilton.
