I wonder what it’s like to surf a wave from the inside? This thought
occurred to me today, as I spotted quite a few large fish silhouetted
inside waves as the swells rose and broke around my boat. It must be
really quite beautiful inside a wave, white and frothy at the peak, with
a band of crystal aqua blue….
Blimey. I was just typing this when my sleeping cabin was clobbered by
the most almighty juggernaut of a wave. There is now that strange hush
that descends immediately after the ocean has struck. No sound of wind
or waves. Just the sound of water dripping off the surfaces of my boat,
and a gentle sloshing as my boat rocks in the aftermath. It takes a
couple of moments of silence before the usual sounds come back, as if
the ocean is slightly abashed at having assaulted me so rudely.
…. anyway, as I was saying, waves are jolly pretty when they’re not
busy bashing you over the head.
As well as relating to fish, I’ve also started imagining myself as one
of the storm petrels that entertain me every day, skimming low over the
waves towards my boat, then soaring up, right on the edge of control.
They have moments when they look as if they might have pushed their luck
too far – turning on a wingtip, I wonder if they’re going to flip over
onto their backs and stall in mid-flight. But they never do. They always
recover, flatten out, and zoom down the wind with skill, grace, and
sheer joie de vivre.
I don’t know if I believe in reincarnation, but if it exists, I wouldn’t
mind coming back as a storm petrel.
Definitely better than a booby, June 2009
I wasn’t sure if I was going overboard (so to speak) with my
philosophical musings. I haven’t received any negative comments, but
wondered if I was spending just a bit too much time on my soapbox. I
might confine my commentary on the state of the world to “Philosophical
Fridays” so that those who prefer to hear about other things know when
it’s safe to venture onto my blog. Although occasionally I may break my
I am also hoping to have a few guest bloggers drop in from time to time.
I’ve got a list of unwitting victims, I mean, contributors, and will be
inviting them to write a few words to give you a break from me, and to
offer a new perspective.
Joan – your comment on Mum’s broken leg had me laughing out loud! Not
that it’s a laughing matter, of course, but the image of Mum tearing
around a soccer field had me in stitches!
Thanks to Pamela and Jim for the assorted good news on plastic bags.
Great to hear the word is spreading – from LA to Thailand!
Bruce – I have absolute belief that the world will survive, and recover.
In places where marine protected areas have been established, it has
mostly been impressive how quickly the marine life returns (with the
exception being some fish stocks, which have not recovered). It would
just be quite nice if we were around to see the recovery, rather than us
having to become extinct before it can take place.
Kenny B – I’m sure your motor home is a LOT more salubrious than the
Purple Palace! This has started to feel less like camping, and more like
vagrancy, with mould, damp, and trashed equipment galore. And yes, strip
mining is brutal. Have you seen what is happening with the tar sands in
Canada? We have trodden so very heavily upon this Earth.
Thanks, Alex, for the quote by Dee Hock from Birth of the Charodic Age.
Very inspiring, so I am going to share it again here: “It is far too
late and things are far too bad for pessimism. In times such as these,
it is no failure to fall short of realizing all we might dream – the
failure is to fall short of dreaming all that we might realize. We must
I also appreciated the quote from Bill Savage, which he attributed to
Pasty H Sampson, but I think the name might be Patsy? 😉
“Human successes, like human failures, are composed of one action at a
time, and achieved by one person at a time.”
One oarstroke at a time….
Photo: freedom of the open skies – a storm petrel
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