Come for a dive with me..... |
Caribbean silk sheaths, shifts. Sinuous tendrils of seaweed weave- caress as I pause before the coral-ed gates to the purple grotto. Barracuda noses into sight: rapier guard to the inner sanctum. I hang, weightless, waiting until he relaxes and swims lazily away into the turquoise morning. Startling a puffer fish into full bloat I fish for my camera. Unworldly shafts of sun silver through coral crevices dappling mauve and magenta sea flowers, a kaleidoscope of butterfly fish turn iridescent as they move in unison, dancing to the music of the deep. There are tales of hidden treasure, of Spanish coins lost here some long ago day yet I muse of flying with golden mermen or riding a silvered porpoise charger. Clown fish screwdriver through anemone fingers, their orange and white sparkling and I drink it in greedy for more; my thirst not yet satisfied, my eyes dilating as I shift to avoid a jam of jelly stingers; reaching, searching, mezmerizing. Tide turns, ebbing the pull. I surface within the purpled grotto breathe salty tang, eye clinging crabs, note I must orchestrate my return. Laden with photographic treasures, with gleaned memories, I fin upward to grey-green cloud of hull watching as bubbles spiral into light then turn for one last look: Seahorse salutes my return to whence I came. 36 lines. For June '09
The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever. ~Jacques Cousteau |