It’s a regular sip of delicious irony for me, the fact that I can get so thirsty… While I’m swimming.
(Also ironic, but much less amusing, is the fact that these human bodies can be fiercely thirsty… While still needing to pee. )
Water. Water fascinates me. That both its over abundant presence and over abundant absence can kill us is curious. It can cradle us gently, moments before it kills us. Fascinating. Research into free-diving gives us even more to ponder- the human body under water can survive extreme amounts of pressure that would crush it on dry land… We seem to have a biological, instinctual relationship with water that transcends anything that chronic landlubbers can ever find. Water, more specifically, the immersion of ourselves into it, has been called ‘The Master Switch of Life’. (http://ideas.ted.com/science_of_freediving/)
It rushes from mysterious caverns in the ground… And it falls from the sky. It falls from the sky! Such magic!
I walked, overshadowed by grey, to the top of my favourite hilltop to watch the sunset. I sat, overshadowed by grey, to watch the tenacious beams of golden peach hue peaking through the grey that trumpeted to my eyes ‘This day is almost done! This day is almost done!’ And then the rain fell. Nothing else in that vista changed, but the rain fell on my solitary form.
Bare arms, bare head, bare toes, I embraced it. Each drop a sweet kiss on my skin, bringing smaller parts of me awake, alive, than I general bother name. This quarter inch of skin sings. That tiny dime of rain dashed space on me screams in delight ‘I’M ALIVE! I’M HERE! I’M ALIVE!’ I feel… Welcomed… I feel… Embraced. Not an obstacle between earth and sky, but a conduit of tingling life. Wet, alive, defined by a thousand tiny rain drops.