![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Went to B&N, then Starbucks for books and chai. Mmm, chai... I could live on chai. I have been living on chai--need to remember to eat soon.
Took my book (David Mitchell, Ghostwritten) to Naples Pier, reading at sunset. Soft sounds of Spanish and German, boasts from surfer-boys riding storm-thrown Gulf waves lapping against my ears, punctuated by the plash of feasting pelicans. Hssh-wssh of he waves. One black fin patrolling the water. I sit and read, feeling an extra sound tingle through my blood, higher pitched than I can hear but still there, stirring the air and the water. More black dorsals, weaving in and out of the waves. I think thoughts of love and welcome, cast my thoughts out on the waves, tossing them over the heads of the pelicans and into the froth. One fin comes closer, resolving into a black, brown, white striped body in the waves below. She looks at me, first one liquid black eye then the other, and she sings. Her song washes over and through me. Images of love, joy, dancing in the sunbeams that dive down through the warm waters. I take her song to my heart, and reflect it back to her, letting it carry my own images of love and joy and family. Pure emotions, not hindered by insufficient words. One last bubble of joy, and she is gone, slipping into the gloaming waves under the lightning-streaked sky.
Took my book (David Mitchell, Ghostwritten) to Naples Pier, reading at sunset. Soft sounds of Spanish and German, boasts from surfer-boys riding storm-thrown Gulf waves lapping against my ears, punctuated by the plash of feasting pelicans. Hssh-wssh of he waves. One black fin patrolling the water. I sit and read, feeling an extra sound tingle through my blood, higher pitched than I can hear but still there, stirring the air and the water. More black dorsals, weaving in and out of the waves. I think thoughts of love and welcome, cast my thoughts out on the waves, tossing them over the heads of the pelicans and into the froth. One fin comes closer, resolving into a black, brown, white striped body in the waves below. She looks at me, first one liquid black eye then the other, and she sings. Her song washes over and through me. Images of love, joy, dancing in the sunbeams that dive down through the warm waters. I take her song to my heart, and reflect it back to her, letting it carry my own images of love and joy and family. Pure emotions, not hindered by insufficient words. One last bubble of joy, and she is gone, slipping into the gloaming waves under the lightning-streaked sky.
