This is the kick off to my 7 day series of ruminations, stories, and moments that come to me when I'm surf fishing around the Full Moon of June. These are moments and stories that are happening on the days I share them.
I fished tonight, because I could. Because I had time. I didn’t have a plan; not really. Not a carefully crafted, controlled, and distilled plan of attack. Nothing driven by hard and fast data. Instead, I went out into the night because I just wanted to be out there. It’s that time of year. You just have to make yourself available to the opportunities that could be waiting. Because, they are.
Waiting, I mean.
My wife asked me, as I stood in the doorway about to leave, holding a steaming coffee mug “So what do you expect tonight?”
I shrugged. “I expect I’ll have fun.”
A couple hours later, I found myself standing on a rocky flat, in rib-deep water. Casting only, not catching. There weren’t any fish on this slice of shoreline tonight. Well, at least, there weren’t any fish that wanted to eat my big hunks of wood and plastic. Perhaps they would have eaten something else. Perhaps.
Probably, there just weren’t any fish.
These long tides, these lonely hours. There are more of them, then less.
But not wasted.
My mind, set adrift without the “distraction” of catching fish, wanders the long and winding paths of my sub-consciousness. I let it go. It’s amazing what it sometimes brings back.
[Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
Are drifting through my opened mind
Possessing me and caressing me]
There was a universe of light in front of me last night. The entirety of the tide, the little creatures of the salt floated around me blinking, glowing, pulsing. Creatures ill contented with the light from the sun; they created their own.
[Images of broken light
Which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe]
I was present, suddenly. My mind racing back up the path.
The world listed, then tipped.
I was on my head, in my head.
Above, creamy churning clouds appearing as a soft, rolling surf. Below, the vitreous, black water blinking with light like a galaxy of stars.
A surreal sense of vertigo, as Lennons lyrics rise to my throat. I release them in a whisper, as I stand in a swirling pool of light.
[Jai Gurur Deva, Om
Nothings going to change my world]
I stand, whispering to myself, to the creatures of light in front of me, staring into the abyss that is the ocean’s horizon.
[Nothings going to change my world]
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