Fading Beauty

I have been told many stories about the once beautiful, vast ocean. Stories about how tranquil and serene it once was. Stories of how the constant smell of freshness permeated the air. Stories about how its cerulean waves would crash on the rocky seashore, stroking each grain of beach soil with its magnificence. Harboring the most fascinating of creatures and how the sun shone down upon it, bathing it in the most stunning collection of variant, bright colours. Reminiscent of an assertive painter’s perfect strokes. Reminiscent of the former unsullied splendor of nature. Stories about how it was a crystal clear turquoise when the scorching sun hit its calm surface. How it stretched on beyond what the eyes could see with a seemingly still façade before its colossal waves roared with might. How it was truly deeper than a thousand kilometers with even more species of life beneath its azure carpet. How these lives mattered before. How these lives were considered. How these lives were protected. How these lives were cherished. How the ocean used to be a place of contentment. How the damp shore soil would stick snugly between a person’s toes. Stories of how the uncontaminated shore would be dotted with the most intricate looking shells. How it used to be dotted with the smoothest of stones. Stones of different colours. Pebbles of nature.
               I am standing barefoot on the ocean but all I see is desecration. All I see is the tainted ocean. All I see for miles are pieces that don’t belong. All I see are the remnants of plastic soiling the shore as the ocean waves pull back gently. As unwanted bits bop ominously on its now murky surface; no longer translucent. The soil beneath my feet as I walk farther towards the ocean is undulating. Even though there is a semblance of beauty from where I stand, I know that it is almost imperceptible. Almost invisible. All obscured in a haze of litter. I dive into the murkiness and look around me. I see a lone fish swimming lazily with plastic and garbage surrounding it. I wonder what it would tell the world if it could talk. Would it tell stories of how its world is almost ruined? Would it tell stories of the selfishness of the creatures above? Would it tell stories of how its family was exterminated? Would it say how suffocating its world is steadily turning into? Maybe it had a friend that died after eating plastic thinking it was food. Maybe it will say that it is slowly fading like the ocean. Would it ask for help? Would it plead for the pollution to stop? Would it warn us to stop with the soilage before catastrophic consequences befall us?