Musings on Monday Mornings

Living near the sea one is familiar with tides. I know my seas. Deep, often unfathomable and always, surrealistically beautiful. Open air, sand crumbling under the weight of my feet. With every move I step into sodden sand that lightens for an instance as it loses its water, but darkens again the second I pull away. Very much like the mind. Areas I briefly wander into, but turn away from too soon. The vastness of the sea flanking the shore. The breeze. The freedom. The romance of the moon, the fire of the sun. Tugging, pulling, tempting. That was before. But even when I moved inland I felt the lull of the sun and the moon. A dark night, with nothing but the shore and the light of the moon, with the tide lapping against the mighty earth's chest like a old familiar lover wronged. Again and again. Softly, mournfully. And like an old flame, the tide lamented it inability to reach its muse. They tempted but their love was fickle. Burning hot and cold like the hot des...

I got a great gtalk line today with Ami. I got a great skype line too. And between conversations, we stumbled upon an old folder of pictures currently booted on both our computers, neighbouring continents away. That's great. Ending up on the same page (folder) with the miles between us. And one folder led to another, until I realised through the backward and forward motion of the cursor keys, the clicking of time. Literally and metaphorically. A ceaseless erosion. The pace and the speed with which the canvas of our lives change. How very quickly things turn. I think the use of the word 'jinx' in the title is unfair. It's unfair on Fate. It's also provocation, I realise. But there are moments when we look on to the Gods of old and smile in our contentment and happiness. There are actual physical moments when the heavens have paused to draw breath at man's perfection. And of course, thereafter we tempt Fate and her minions.