The kelp forest grew as titan evergreens. Up they grew, into the sunny rays. Without music they danced, not with one another but with the oceanic flow. It was as mesmerising as if the trees of the land had uprooted for a waltz. I half expected to see a bird alight upon their waving green limbs, yet in that brine it was me and a school of electric-blue fish. The scroll was here somewhere, amid this aquatic wonderland; as a place to spend some time, it was hard to think of anywhere that could calm the soul more.
The kelp forests are every child's Atlantis dream, the soft green wands that wave in the blue, the silk of the ocean, the lungs of creation.
The green wedding dress trails of Earth are this kelp, these forests of the blue, for she marries creation to itself, creating the very womb of creation.
Either kelp forests grow or watery desserts prevail, life or death, plenty or empty, our oceans need not help yet sanctuary and protection.
In the kelp forests is the very buzz of life, the cradle of creation, the sacred green trees of the ocean that give so much to Earth.
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