My San Carlos Bay
Forty square miles, give or take.
On either side of the Causeway
I am on it, or in it, more than 300 days a year; for the past 10 years.
Never the same, not always easy; at times impossible, always good.
Tonight, mercurial water and slate grey skies.
That time of day is hard to name – way past sunset, dark; but it’s still light out on the water.
Almost too far past sunset, to still, be a part of today.
A box of mirrors.
Whose sheen has long ceased to function well, a reflective, liquid pool, stretching to the horizon.
Soft grey clouds smeared thinly across clear skies, still slightly cyanic to the west.
White light from a crescent moon, just rising, over my back, across the island.
That dull sheen, only the ocean can get, and only when all is still.
“Not a creature stirring, not even a mouse.”
Dead calm. Slack tide.
The calm permeates my brain and finally, I take notice, that all is different, all is calm.
I smile, a big dopy smile, which could never be held back.
Step onto liquid sliver, glide across it.
Tonight, against all odds.
She is mine – and only mine.
Not another human, on the water, in my 40 square-miles of San Carlos Bay.
Only a grey, slick, box of liquid grey; all mine
Best Paddle Ever.