and everything is blue again like morning."
". . .and the water is so busy
with all its blue business
that arrivals go unrealized.
The waves keep up their song."
- Pablo Neruda
Pablo Neruda held a fascination for the sea. It became a metaphor for his emotions and travels. In his Isla Negra, he meditated on the nearness of blue.
During my morning runs, the sea behaves in a stroll of moods. Its animation stretches my senses. Some days the wave action reflects a satin stillness. In a moment, mounds appear as if a cat has arched its back, pushed forward and then returned to horizontal. Other days the spindrift curls off a wave's crest like cat claws extended and hidden during movement toward the shore.
Water moves in a celadon glaze of Chinese porcelain. It reveals a transparency where orange fish swim. A change in season promotes rupture and urgency. Angry in sapphire, wave action polishes the sandstone. Slush and slap push water in cacophony or symphony. Carried on a mist of salt, scents of cinnamon rolls and coffee mingle on sun-enchanted breezes.
The sea might match my mood or cause me to question my morning's emotions. Imagination tickles each breath until I notice an elegance of seahorses driven in harness. In an instant they turn into scrambled egg whites. Breakfast calls.
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