I adjust the mask on my face, checking the seal. I place the snorkel in my mouth and slide into the water, gliding just under the surface of the water. My eyes focus below and around me, instead of up and out. Every single time, I am transfixed. I notice that I feel buoyant, and my movements feel almost ethereal as I maneuver through the water. The sound has a different quality about: it is both duller and sharper at the same time. The noise of the normal world has been muted; it’s as if it has ceased to exist. Instead, I hear smaller sounds, but I hear them clearly: the bubbling of water as a wave rolls over, the nibbling of fish on the reef, the crinkling sound the water makes as it moves through the spines of the sea urchins, the jangle of the loose, old coral rolling together on the ocean floor. As the light streams through in rays, I notice the fine particles of sand in the water and the vibrant colors on the fish that glimmer as the sun strikes them. For me, it is like another world. One that reminds me that there is so much more than meets the eye at first glance. From the shore, one cannot see the magic that is happening beneath the surface of the water. I am filled with wonder: how can this whole other world exist just beyond my sight? I am filled with curiosity: what more is there to discover? What lies just beyond?
Sarah W., Hawaii
Sarah W., Hawaii