Mother and Child by the Sea – Johan Christian Dahl

I had been casually strolling through the Metropolitan Museum when I was drawn to a particular painting by Johan Christian Dahl named Mother and Child by the Sea. Swaths of dark color shrouded the sky and land. However, a glimmer of moonlight dimly illuminated the horizon, revealing the silhouettes of a mother and child watching a fishboat. The serenity amidst the storm stirred something inside me.

After closing my eyes, I felt my breathing slow, and the incessant chatter of onlookers around me began to blur into a soft hum. Suddenly, there was dead silence.

In shock, my eyes flew open and I was hit by a blast of ocean wind and the sound of crashing waves. A gust brought the sharp taste of sea salt on my tongue. For a second, I believed I was dead, feeling surrounded by darkness. It took a minute to adjust to the faint moonlight from the cloudy sky, and it took a few more minutes to realize I was in the painting. I noticed how the calm seas belied the tumultuous sky. I saw the moon tint the surrounding clouds with violet. All the things I could casually appreciate in the painting I was now experiencing firsthand.

Did I enter the imaginary world of the painting? Or was the painting just another reality separate from the one I knew? Before I could worry myself with any more questions, I noticed ahead of me were the mother and child.

The winds carried their voices to me, just barely audible amongst the noise of the sea.

“See, Papa always comes back before dawn,” The mother murmured. The curious little boy made a sound of awe, inching forward and excitedly pointing at the boat. The mother gripped the thick fabric of his shirt to keep him close to her.

As the mother wrapped her arms around the boy, the billowing cloth of her dress warmly engulfing most of his body, I felt as if I was watching something sacred. I didn’t understand why I was allowed to overlook such a private moment, but I appreciated it.

“Why does Papa always have to leave after supper?” I could hear the whine in the boy’s voice.

“There are so many monsters, big and small, in the sea,” the mother began, drawing the boy onto her lap. “And Papa goes out every single night without fail to fight off all of those bad monsters.”

Both mother and child looked up to see that the boat was close enough to make out a silhouette. A man in rumpled clothing held onto a net with one hand and waved the other one. “Mama! Papa’s home, Papa’s home!” the little boy cooed in elation. He leaped out of his mother’s embrace and without a moment of hesitation, darted into the freezing waters.

The mother and I jumped to our feet simultaneously, the mother letting out a startled cry. She gathered the heavy fabric of her dress into her hands as best as she could and began stumbling forward. The little boy had thrown himself into water that rose to his chin. Out of shock from the cold, he was knocked under the surface. Being dragged by the powerful lull of the waves that once seemed calm, he could only flail his limbs in desperation.

Whether it was courage or mindless spontaneity, I found myself sprinting towards the water, flinging my cardigan to the side. The mother was too overwhelmed to notice me, tearfully treading through shallow water as her clothes weighed her down.

I was alarmed to find myself already up to my shoulders in water when I reached the boy. I was able to just grab the edge of his sleeve, gritting my teeth as my whole body became flooded by the sharp pain of the freezing cold. “I’ve got you!”

In the midst of struggling to get his head above surface, the little boy was able to get one glance at me. “No! Mama!” He screeched, jerking himself away from my grip.

In surprise, I fell backwards, and a wave quickly washed over my head. I thrashed, but found myself only sinking deeper with every movement. My body grew numb and water flooded through my nose and mouth. However, after the initial agony and desperation, I found myself in a state of serenity floating in emptiness and succumbed myself to the ocean.

I opened my eyes to find myself rooted in the same spot in front of Mother and Child by the Sea. I clutched my chest, breathing heavily, and looked around to confirm I was where it all started.