All the summers of my life, I've been
staring out at the uninhabited little islets strewn around the bay. Unknown lands that represent all my dreams.
Sometimes, very rarely, someone takes
me out in a little boat, braving the waves to get to one of them on a
summer day. They are strange pieces of nature – basically a pile of
huge rocks with just enough soil between them to produce a thick
forest of spruce, impossible to walk around in. Difficult to make
landfall on too, but after having scraped our sturdy little boat
painfully against the rocks we usually manage to find a large,
smoother rock to climb up and spread our picnic on. Hot sun, a
cooling breeze, pure sea water to swim in, strong coffee, the quiet
of sea and sky.
I'm happy, maybe as happy as I ever
get, whenever I get to see one of these islets up close. But I don't
mind the fact that many of them are still unexplored. Looking at them
from across the bay I feel the excited thrill of knowing that there
are still adventures out there, dreams to discover. A world.
2 comments:
summers. for adventures that always happen, and the possibilities of a Narnia or a Middle-earth right past that bend, that copse or stream gurgling on its stony bed.
Gold!
Post a Comment