I don’t know much, but I can tell you about the sea. And the sky. And the gulls perched between them. The restless gulls, always calling, always searching for home. I can tell you about the blues that stretch out to the horizon. Where the waters of heaven and earth meet and blend together. Where the clouds dip into the waves and pop up as foamy crests.
I can tell you about old. The battered, wrinkled stones. The weathered hands. The deep lines around the eyes. The eyes that shone with youth once. The light that’s going out. And the light within.
I can tell you about storms. The gray and violet palette. The cooling touch. The force that picks up metal ships, and twists, and carries them, and scatters them like wood chips. The deafening roar, devastation and despair.
Do not be afraid. Look for me in the distance. I’ll be there for you. Put your trust in me. Let me guide you to safety.
And when you feel land beneath your tired feet, come see me. Don’t leave just yet. My old man will open the aged brandy he’s been saving for visitors, and serve it to you in a heated glass to warm up your soul and loosen your tongue. He’ll pour some for himself and marvel at your stories of the impossibly beautiful faraway worlds, and his eyes will grow young again.
And when your stories are all through, I will tell you about the sea.
Thank you for voting for me!
Live for the Love of it,
The Happy Amateur
Image credit: Indies Unlimited