When you think about fit – a shore to an ocean, they are inseparable but separate, clashing and splashing but never apart, neither becomes the other - they rub against each other with every wave, stay separate from each other with every wave. They never become the other or change the other - the ocean remains the ocean, the shore remains the shore. Always been that way, so natural and pure, powerful and soft, both are alive and thrive, each never loses its identity. Sure, water grinds rough edges smooth and sand shifts between them with every wave - they pound against each other and hug each other with every wave, they hold each other every day and every night. They always have, they always will.
Oceans are calm, and soft, and powerful. They are beautiful and kind, an enormously strong force. I think describes ‘her’. Shores are jagged edges of something solid, immovable but always changing too.
As a fiction writer, I am, I might write this story with a happy ending. Because we all like stories that turn out that way. I might write fiction sometimes, but this is a truly unfinished real story – very real for me. Not just lunch, an afternoon, then dinner for two, more than that. Don’t know where this story goes next. If I did, I’d write it here and now. The future can be thought of, wished for, dreamed of and planned – but as we all so clearly know, life doesn’t work that way. It turns out wonderfully – we just don’t control much of the ‘how it does that’.
Not for everyone on the planet, but speaking only for myself, YES. Absolutely.
How can I have known that in advance?
Well – that would involve great planning, ‘fingers crossed’, predicting time + place.
But, how do you predict people?
Could I have written how things went, how I will feel, or how she would feel, in advance?
Sometimes – especially when travelling, I draft some thoughts ‘ahead’, then polish/publish (or completely re-write).
This is my ‘today’, reflecting on ‘yesterday’.
My “can’t wait till tomorrow” became ‘today’, and now that today is an unforgettable ‘yesterday’.
So, how do I feel today?
Culmination of calculation, expectation – imagination. Hopes. Dreams. Logic, not so much. I came. I saw, I had an experience I’ve never had before – one worth repeating. Guilelessness. Beauty. Truth. Strength. What else could anyone need/want?
Under watchful eyes of this planet – sun, moon, stars, city lights and perhaps some observers, smiling of course, saying … “look at their faces, so much to be said, read, observed and interpreted there”.
Nosy strangers get ‘no comment’, close friends get more but not much – privacy is privacy. If I’ve learned anything in all my years, there is time for shouting from rooftops, and about rooftops, and there are times for being absolutely tight-lipped about personal private moments, celebrating privately.
Is there a time and place to tell yesterday’s story? Like describing a cloudy sky, ‘partly’.
Enjoying Vancouver, wet-coast land of umbrellas, seafood, seawalls, and some lovely people …
Seems like a good day. For a hike, maybe watching some collisions – ocean and shore, like watching campfires late at night – always the same thing happening, never looking or feeling the same.
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