We are oceans

#PlanetOrPlastic

I was walking down the same sandy slope as I did back when I was young and the world was bright. It's different now.

The soft, pale sand is covered in colourful blemishes - nurdles. They're not decaying, but their victims are. The smell of rotting sea life was strong enough to mask the salty smell of the ocean that I love so much. My heart started sinking faster and a part of me felt sick when I set my eyes on the horizon and witnessed it for the first time: an ocean that was so polluted that it no longer reflected the sky. It was a terrible sight. There was substances leaking out into the water from bottles and containers, clumps of wires, packets caught on rocks or shells, unidentifiable objects bobbing on the surface of the ocean and the list goes on...

"What a mess we made," I muttered, thinking I was alone.
"It is, indeed," A voice responded from behind me.

I turned around and noticed a mature lady using a strainer to sift the sand and remove finer pollutants like microplastics. She looked exhausted.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" I asked desperately, but she shook her head.
"I think you've done quite enough already."
"Excuse me?"
"I've seen you walk down to this beach every week with friends and beer. Were you too drunk to notice the mess your bottles were contributing to? Or were you having too much fun with friends to care? Dare I ask that it simply didn't bother you enough and so you went on with your life normally?"

I didn't know how to respond. I think it's normal for most people to be too worried or busy with other problems to spend time helping the Earth. It doesn't have an immediately visible consequence so we don't worry as much as we would with money or careers.

"I-I was young and foolish."
A sigh escaped her, "I am sorry. I've been doing this alone for many years and I started becoming more and more bitter as the ocean became more and more..." Her voice trailed off.

She paused. Her eyes lifted from her work in the sand to look at the contaminated waters. She cleared her throat and pointed to the murky mess.

"I feel like that," she confessed with tears brimming at her eyes. I looked into that water as it slid down her cheeks, her tears reflected the darkening sky like an ocean would and I tasted the salty water of my own tears as it branched down my face sloppily and into my quivering mouth.

I knelt down, grabbed her sieve and continued her work.

"Go now. I'll be back tomorrow with clean-up supplies."
She looked stunned, "What made you mad?"
"I'm not mad," I chuckled, "You... and I, we are oceans. We are forces of nature, we will win this battle and heal ourselves by healing the Earth."

Slowly, she smiled.
"...Thank you."