Frayed Feisty Threads - Book IV

Takeoff 4/23/96

The treasure

The Florida sun continues to shine on my face, as I press against the window...trying to see...trying to re-orient and longing for the old airport days, when you could catch a glimpse of each other through less tinted and fortified glass.....sometimes even standing down on the runway.


I settle into my seat as the plane begins to move, lookng at my 9 x 12 view of Florida. Airborne, I am struck by golden rays of sunshine beaming down on its selected expanse of water. Watching transfixed through ever glistening eyes, I realize that we are following the coastline. The waves are lapping the sand, as the sun's rays turn from golden to silver, lighting up the wing, against the ever-present blue sky. Gliding over a bridge, I see traffic is halted and the bridge is open in the middle, as a ship passes through. And in my mind's eye, I see the waves lapping the side of your boat, as you manuver through the swells, rhythmically...and smile at the memory.


As if in concert with my mood, the plane dips low over the ocean, until it appears that silver will meet gold, in a last fond farewell to the timeless waves. Quickly I scan the shoreline for some marker...the lighthouse perhaps? The wing dips still lower, and briefly offers a final salute to the waves before righting as the plane pulls around and heads inland ....as though a decision has been made. The sun beams brightly on my face....and I watch as the the green of the ocean is replaced by the green of the land.


The plane's motion is all business now....climbing and cruising. The captain gives his usual announcements and greetings , that I can barely hear above the din of the engines. Nor do I want to. Still leaning against the window, I am drinking in the last rays of the sun. Remembering the breathtaking picture below me, and my last hurried glimpse of you, your soulful amber eyes, those moments when you laughed, your wit, the tree-house restaurant, and your tentative forays into the ocean, your determination to find a fishing spot, the music you shared and thoughtfully "forgot" how to dance to, your ready support this morning, that last walk on the beach and the gentleness of your touch, I feel myself draw a sudden breath. A feeling of warmth and sadness runs through me, as I smile at the sun. The memories that I am taking with me are warm and pleasant, and are food for my soul , as is your friendship. Among the scattered shells on the beach, a rarer treasure could not be found .



tuc
04/23/96
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