BEACH AND BOAT AND OTHER

It’s vast and the breeze comes to pull the top of the lake over just a little bit so as to cause a ruffle in the blanket that is the water. The Tao Te Ching says somewhere that the sign of true peace or something like that is when there are different towns and waters but the since the people are happy and content with their village the boats don’t go far, not even to the other villages, and mostly stay tied up. In that small saying I have paraphrased is much. Osho Rajneesh says it another way,-…plant a rose garden and the world will be for you. It means create a small space, - a living sanctuary of sorts, and literally and/or figuratively- though he actually meant a real garden in that discourse, - plant that, - and you will be surprised to find that the world is indeed for you, - that through caring for the small you have cared for the large, and the large will reach you through the small. In any event, - the water is there, - the rocks, the shores, - a few different sandy beaches, - and up the way- the wild forest, - brambly rocks, dark crevices, odd birds making noises. Some birds nest on the ground, others inhabit old dwellings. There are turtles, geese, snakes, frogs, flowers. The clouds sit over the horizon line and draw little pictures and lines with themselves. This splash one way, that one the other. It’s all magic,- every piece of it,- from the glint of the sun to the bumper of the boat, the wake of the vessel, the flock of birds migrating, the air and the chaparral by the rocks, the sand,- infinite seem the grains. The boat is coming in and it seems like it goes under the sun. Where was it? It’s an older style, - which is perfect in a world too sleek, fast. It’s boxier, and maybe you can if you were closer see the beads and the welds. We need more boxy, older, more seventies or something. We went a little too fast. Slow, slow, slow, - like the turtle. The turtle won the race, remember? In fact, I wonder where all the big power boats of years gone by,- the cruisers, the cigarette boats, the rest,- many many, have gone. This old guy- this vessel, waited it out- and just comes along like a trusted friend after the hoopla and mayhem, the glitz and glamour. And don’t forget the eye of the looker, - it squints for the sun, looks out, hand cupped over for shade-, and surveys the world, is the world.

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