Journal Entry 9/6

“The smell of plumeria and jasmine blends with laundry detergent. Hamburgers, wet grass and the sound of children laughing. A warm salty wind comes off the sea and seamlessly merges these aspects into one pleasant and pervasive shadow, huddling outside the glow of streetlights and just beyond definition. An elusive and tantalizing tease to my comprehension as an evening walk amidst this stirring of humanity tugs unidentified yearnings in my heartstrings.

A dog barks briefly in the distance and my bare feet make no sound on warm pavement. The barely perceptible whisper of my cotton pants melts into the rustling of tree boughs, ’till I am a ghost passing through the neighborhood. Unseen, elusive yet watchful, untouchable and sensed only by the aina I tread.
Stars are reflected in my upturned gaze, i wander with my hair down and a song in my heart.

The road soon melts into darkness and night demands it’s due. Where nature reclaims her dominance and there is only the sky and the ocean to play on dark horizons. My feet know the way across sharp edges of volcanic stone, reaching the safety of black sand still warm between my toes. I sit beneath a eucalyptus tree and contemplate the white crests of incoming waves glowing in the moonlight. My mind is filled only with the rhythmic whipering of the Pacific, as I allow it to gently fill the emptiness inside of me. My arms lack love to embrace and so I lift them to be filled with wind. My back lacks solidity to lean upon, and so I fit it into the hollow of the tree. My feet lack a trail through confusion, so I bury them in the sand… I am only this moment.

Slowly time passes. Stars do their circular dance, waves creep a little further up the shore, an owl swoops by on silent wing, a frog sings, and somewhere in the world it is a beautiful sunny day.

Arising with one foot half asleep I turn back to the road, winding my way through a squared city grid full of right angles and traffic signs. A piece of paper flutters along beside me for a while before getting tangled in a well pruned shrub and still i am filled only with the sound of the sea. A stillness has settled upon me, the lassitude of night compounded by sweet ambiguity is the balm I massage into my aching soul.

My feet bear me onward like a designated driver, turning all the right corners through a maze of concrete as I sit in the backseat enjoying the ride.

I reach the house via the back side street, looking at it curiously with a tilt of my head. Appraising it’s contours of roofline by the glow of streetlights, admiring it’s selfless willingness to shelter the small lives within it. The simple wooden gate before me becomes a metaphor, that thought dropping into my still pool of conscience and making little ripples.

I open the gate.”


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