She sits
in another dimension
oblivious to all.
She has found her centre
and only time
will shift her.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Close Encounter
My brother and I took the
rowing boat out across the bay. The sea was smooth, just a deep swell
came rolling in, in long bars, from the North West. We rode the
swells as we headed for the scarlet buoys that were bobbing near the
reef on the far side. They shone out against the sombre greens and
grays of water and light.
I sat in the front, in readiness to grab a buoy and start to pull up a lobster pot. I could see the lasagna seaweed waving darkly, deep below us and shivered at my thoughts. On the shore line oyster catchers lamented at the rising tide and a sheep called out.
I sat in the front, in readiness to grab a buoy and start to pull up a lobster pot. I could see the lasagna seaweed waving darkly, deep below us and shivered at my thoughts. On the shore line oyster catchers lamented at the rising tide and a sheep called out.
As we neared the first
buoy, what we thought of as a swell became an inky black island that
rose up from under us and let out a blast of air. We were so close we
could see the blow hole. We could have leaned over and touched that
oily black skin. A feathery excitement passed between us, though we
dared not say a word. My brother held the oars up and the water ran
off them, noisily, as we waited for something more to happen. The
boat rocked, the water splashed off the oars, the oyster catcher
continued it's song, but we were alone once more. The surface of the
sea was smooth and secretive.
Later, as the evening was getting darker and we were nearing the last buoy, we heard that sound, of air shooting out of the blow hole, further away. The small whale was heading out to deeper waters.
(Wordle words wet, sway, lost, sparks, oiled, feathery, inky, close, hole, scarlet, shoots.)
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