one time i went kayaking. and it felt like a dream.
it started at noon with a scenic tour of miami from the passenger seat of an air conditioned car.
[this picture doesn't do the city justice. but i forget to take good pictures these days.]
the winding roads dumped us outside the city on a lake near the ocean. we walked barefoot burning our feet to get the kayaks.
we drug our kayaks in, paddled past mangroves and under foresty things, thinking it was freshwater til the salt hit my face.
We went under bridges, around bends (pocahantas!) seeing nothing but trees and barnacles and discarded shoes.
Then we turned the final corner and we were in the ocean. Right in the middle. Sitting in our tiny kayaks being bullied by big boats with people fishing and people dining and people drinking and people tanning.
We dodged speedboats and fishing boats and pelicans swooping down for their lunch. We pulled ourselves across the choppy blue water feeling the water and the sun working together to tire us out. I saw a fish and told the story of how it was "thiiiiis big", only this time I told it without exaggeration.
We kayaked forever until we reached the island. We drank ice water and looked at Miami.
The expedition back was three times harder. The ocean was endless, the short stretch had multipled. It was punishment--I shouldn't have said aloud how easy the first leg of the journey was. The wind and waves against us, any break from paddling set us back several feet. I sang sherwood and stayed at least ten feet ahead of him.
We made it back alive.
i don't know how i'm going to live without the ocean.
[Title from What Are You Waiting For? by Sherwood]