The Arctic Ocean
"Tell me what you plan to do with your one wild and precious life." Mary Oliver
Last night I slept hearing chunks of sea ice fall off each other. It's a large sound although the chunks are relatively small. The size of a refrigerator or two, the size of a dishwasher. A foreign sound. And the sea beating up against it in its tiny wake reminds me of being near boats docked. The skies are clear, there is only a light breeze. We should have gotten into the boats an hour ago instead of 90 minutes from now.
The water in the Arctic Ocean is blue, blue, blue, pure blue. And the water in the lagoon at my back is as turbid and brown as the arctic is clear and blue. I can see them both from this narrow spit of land we are camped on.
No comments:
Post a Comment