Back here in a land now past...
Turbulent knolls are dry, resistant to a gardeners trowel but resting lightly blanketed with crisp whiskers of green. A deep breath robbed this place of all that I knew, now exhaling a landscape totally new.
The waters edge so clearly exposing the ground below it shimmers as yesterday’s heavy rainfall. I do not recall it’s expanse, nor the depth it falls to. Cradling it are fjords borrowed from another land, gently disappearing into a slow moving harbour. All beaconing me to explore.
One foot on the raft and the other to launch me from a steady earth I am propelled by awe, paddling closer to an understanding that touch will bring. I sway en route through the magnificence of chiseled earth, noticing a measure of time far more tangible than the arms of any clock. Layers of matter combining to bring, stories untold yet quietly they sing. A whisper of wind is kissing each cheek and I notice the sun is beginning to speak it's language of warmth. I curtain my vision allowing each lid to bathe, in a rare opportunity seldom felt in this daze.
Approaching the harbour, a voice, a new companion speaks to me breathing words unknown but his timbre is sure, I have arrived. My fingers date these vessels just as their captain would. A fresh gloss coat boldly guards the rails beneath and the luminescent paint shouts a symphony with the midday sun as it’s conductor. All around me are new boats, swaying and proud like ancient trees, though young enough they taunt the power of the seven seas.
Ready, quiet and calm.
Monuments to my better nature.
Dependant on water and labour.