Underwater Realm

Not only is gravity suspended under water, time seems to be as well. Hoi polloi noises are muffled, and I float through flocks of small fish. Little forests of seaweed waft in the longshore current, and mosaic’d swimmers dart suddenly away when they realize they’ve been spotted. Stingrays leave round depressions in the seabed, and snails track thin furrows in the sand.

A host of golden fish are dappled by slanted sunlight, and silver angelfish lazily flap their vertical wings. A young sea turtle beats a hurried retreat, but the older one is unperturbed by my presence.

And I am present, fully. Because, such beauty! Such abundance! Only a few meters away from shore, nay, sometimes not even a foot. As soon as my head dips into the ocean and the body follows horizontally, I am surrounded by wonders. The intertidal rocks of Peñasco shelter a wealth of species. Yellow, black, electric blue; chocolate spots and transparent hues. Pale rose and vibrant orange, all for me. Because no other people swim this stretch of ocean. A few humans bathe or walk in the early morning, but only the fish and I swim distance.

When I finally emerge — fingers pruned, stomach rumbling – it is sometimes hard to adjust, a culture shock. I am suddenly heavier, and my ears are accosted by sounds of trains, construction, dune buggies, chat.

The above water world holds less and less interest for me. I don’t care about, well, anything. Other than going below again the next morning.

Fishy Wishes*

Does a fish wish

to be like other fish?

Does the flat sand bass

envy the sinuous eel?

Does a fish wish

to be other than it is?

Doubtful.

*from the upcoming book of poetry and paintings, Dance First… Ask Questions Later.