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Saturday, May 19, 2012

paddling



The water is colorless. It is neither blue nor gray nor aquamarine, and yet all those colors dance across its surface. It is not color but light, sparkling and alive, tossed up by the wind and lit by the sun playing in the clouds. The bow of my kayak bounces in the waves and the salt water splashes on my face and I dip my paddle into the sea again and lick my lips. They taste like ocean. I strain against the wind and the water, entwined with both. There is nothing but this endless plain of light, no sound but the gulls reeling overhead, and I am so happy to be back on the water.


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