Walking by the sea. I took off my shoes and let the waves wash over my bare feet. Mills, my father’s whippet, was with me. Now and again I raced her over the sand. She would shimmy past me like a rugby wing back avoiding a tackle. I needed to feel like a teenager again. Needed to reassert a vigorous ongoing relationship with the soil underfoot. Finally I sat on some rocks and watched the waves.
When I turned inland I saw two moving white columns in the sky which at first glance I thought was smoke. The two encroaching formations rippled into funnels and then spread out beneath the labyrinthine coral of clouds into fans. My vision blurred for a moment. Then I realised I was witnessing two perfectly synchronised flocks of birds. The abstract shapes they formed were flawless . I stood with my hands on my head as the birds tapered into a long undulating line which gently vanished behind the surface of things. The same thing happens when people die - they vanish behind the surface of things.
Soil?? Sand, surely?
ReplyDeletethanks for visiting my leafdropper journal, glenn. i'll gladly follow your blog as well. i loved it when you said -- "The same thing happens when people die - they vanish behind the surface of things." only on the surface, because we are all divine beings. our True Self carries on ..
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful post!
ReplyDeleteNice descriptive work I can actually visualize most of it as I'm reading and it flows together well.
ReplyDeleteAlways what you write is beautiful. Lately it speaks to me more deeply, especially when you write about your father. It makes me feel less alone.
ReplyDelete