Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Point of Departure

Downtown in Cleveland somewhere.  There were crowds of people filling the streets everywhere.  It was impossible to even consider trying to drive through these crowds, so my wife and I decided to park the car in a small lot behind a run-down brick building and continue on foot.  I griped that it was way too far to walk, but my wife assured me that we'd be there before we knew it.  We turned the corner onto a wide main street which sloped down away from us.  From the high ground I could see a vast river of people stretched out before me, channeled by the banks formed by the tall buildings on either side.  There was a constant roar of excited chatter, and there were even streamers and confetti in the air above everyone's heads, along with that strange, dizzy haze that's caused by a large mob of people.

Before long, this river of people carried us down by the docks along the lakefront.  There were several boats anchored alongside one another.  The crowds poured up the ramps to the different boats.  I noted with some relief that the ramps were quite easily accessible, not as narrow and precarious as some I'd seen.  We seemed to instinctively know which boat was ours, and we headed eagerly up the ramp.  At the top, I could see out over the lake.  Some of the boats were already loaded and on the water.  The setting sun was half-dipped in the lake and huge on the horizon.  I turned to my wife.  A warm breeze blew through.  I had no idea where we were going.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Scene from a Beach

I was standing on the beach.  It was 6:30 in the morning, but somehow life wasn't catching up with this place until 8 AM.  Things had to be prepared.  We had to lay all the beach towels down.  We had to find just the right random scattering of people, just the right kids to chase each other with buckets of sand and water.  A precise number of seagulls were brought in trucks, and then released from their cages.  Finally, someone had to go up into the light house and turn this old metal crank that would put the sun exactly in the 8 o'clock position in the sky over the water.  So, everything was set; everyone was in their place.  I looked down at my pocket watch as the last seconds of 7:59 ticked by.  Everything was still.  Even the birds waited.  Then, the second that 8 o'clock arrived, it all slid silently into motion, and the elegant machinery of life continued along in its smooth, eternal waltz.