At Sea
The horizon is curved, turning 360 degrees, into a circle and we travel upon a disk. Our disk move gently, up and down, back and forth, freckled by the shadows of scattered clouds. We are at sea, far from land and our world seems small, only as far as we can see, all that we can see and yet we constantly move only to remain consistently in place at the center of the disk.
No pressing tasks today. No appointments that need to be kept. No decisions that have to be made, right now. Perhaps for some, this is uncomfortable. Go up on deck, look around, if there is nothing you are not ready for the magic of ocean travel. Now look closer, there is a bird, sweeping low, almost skimming the water. It does not feed. It does not mate. It does not sleep. It seems tethered to the ship, around and around and around us again it goes, a moon to our planet, with no decisions that have to be made, right now.
Look closer still, like the keen eyes on the Bridge: Richard and Mike and others, too. Unexpected guests always appear and always need to be greeted, to be welcomed. A point, on the water, no, mostly in the water, another disk, brown, almost smooth and getting closer. It is a loggerhead sea turtle! Large, most likely an adult, drifting about, not too fast judging by the colony of goose barnacles attached to the aft end of its shell… larval barnacles are not fleet enough to settle on an incessantly moving turtle!
Throughout the day there are many unexpected visitors, but they do not knock or call out; you need to be there to see them, to give them a nod, to share the moment. Nothing there you say? No, not right, there is more than meets the eye, some eyes and, as always, we need to learn to look, to explore, to discover, or not, because there are no pressing tasks today, no appointments to be kept and no decisions that have to be made, right now.
