Originally uploaded by lorenzodom
December 8, 2007, Elihu Island, Stonnington, CT:
I celebrated life this morning by sitting by myself outside, on the dock, watching the sun rise and skirt in and out of the clouds, reflecting upon the water.
I wondered about wives and sons and fathers, wandering about “family matters,” as swans gracefully passed me by. I realized the power of polyamory, the splendor of seeing love in so many faces, finding stability in diversity and security in accepting that life always changes; it only stops changing—when it dies.
I found peace in the sleepy snore of fog horns calling each other from afar, some sounding as if they were lost somehow—but blind to the notion that they were actually already home; buoy bells chimed in on occasion, to call in the jellyfish and the sparrows and oysters to mass.
I received communion with them by basking in the slowly rising sun, noticing the glistening crystals of frozen goose feathers and watching flocks glide across the calm white sheet of water, as I walked, alone, along the shore’s edge.
Getting too excited I almost slipped as I walked on the slimy black rock to take a closer look; I slowly turned back and admired the beauty of the menagerie of broken shells and fallen leaves under the water, if only, once again, from afar.
Then I farted. Because no one can hear you fart when you’re alone, if only because farting broke the monotony of my “deep thoughts.” If only because, one should never take one self—all too seriously.