Thursday, March 25, 2010

Trespassers Will

We celebrated our anniversary by fleeing the country. We drove off into the setting sun last Wednesday and arrived in another world. A short ferry hop, and we were at Discovery Bay. Isn't that a profound name for a holiday destination? We "discovered" a rather unfriendly, No Trespassing sign on the beach in the morning that curtailed explorations to the right so we turned to the left and averted our gaze from similar signs posted at the cliff edge. We picked our way along the shore toward a tantalizing spit in the distance. Why do things in the distance always look so inviting. Wobbling and teetering over the barnacle covered rocks, it occurred to me that my knees aren't what they used to be. Perhaps, garden clogs weren't the best choice of footwear, but clutching each other, we stumbled on. What a fitting metaphor for married life. Turquoise and lavender beach glass glinted among the crushed shells. The rocks grew smaller and smother and sandblasted fragments of driftwood lay in an undulating line at the high tide mark. At last we reached the pebbled spit with waves seeming to break on it from two sides. The bottom dropped away steeply and in my minds eye, I could see a killer whale sliding up the smooth pebbled slope and onto that spit to snatch an unsuspecting seal or........ "Try not to look like a seal, " I warned my husband, who was wearing a soft brown polar fleece jacket. Have you ever felt like you were being watched? We became aware of four, no, five seals bobbing in the surf, their large sober eyes fixed upon us. I waved but no one responded. I wish I could say the trek back was easier, buoyed as we were with full lungs of salty air, but we still hobbled over the slippery black rocks, and I may have asked plaintively, why fallen trees blocked the only easy routes and forced us to make countless detours. Metaphors came to mind again, and we boosted and tugged each other up the last rocky bit of cliff triumphant and pink cheeked. I'm thankful for the fine companion I've shared the last thirty-two years with. The wind has gusted at times, we've stumbled and grumbled, but we've kept on clutching each others arm and we've revelled at the view.

1 comment:

Alan said...

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Alan

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