My soul needs the sights and sounds and smells of salt water, no matter that it is December and the wind blows cold off the Atlantic. No matter that instead of summer’s warmth, the water is now a chilly 58 degrees. My feet need to feel waves breaking on top of them and sand being sucked out from beneath them by the retreating water. My feet know that there is but one ocean circling the earth. The names of the oceans are but conventions invented and assigned by human beings. Today my feet touch sardine fishermen in the Mediterranean, polar bears swimming in the Arctic Ocean, and baby sea turtles rafting in the Sargasso Sea. This water laps the shores of western Ireland and circles the Antarctic continent. The songs of humpback whales tickle my toes. Entering these rifling waves with my bare feet should be a sacrament.