THE WATER'S EDGE

Monday, August 16, 2010

THE WATER’S EDGE

By Philip Cairns

Copyright 2010 by Philip Cairns

The lake is such an extraordinary colour, this evening.
A shiny blue-black shade of slate
With splashes of light dancing on its surface.
Oh, what Emily Carr could paint, if she were here!
The sun is starting to set
Behind the roof of the Boulevard Club.

I am flying high!
If I close my eyes,
I can pretend I’m in the beach house
In the Joan Crawford film noir, “Mildred Pierce”.
I adore old movies as much as I cherish this lake.

Two placid ducks splash by.
I’m sure they never discuss, through telepathy,
How polluted the lake has become.
If it were 1737,
The water would be cerulean blue, topaz or azure coloured.

A plastic food container and an empty pop bottle bob around near the shore,
Telling me for sure that I am not a Native North American,
300 years ago.

Listening to the tide is my current drug of choice.
The sound makes my heart chakra speed up and spin.
Water is the most glorious thing in the world
To an Aquarius, like me.
I get some great ideas just standing beneath the shower
In my tiny jewel of an apartment.

If I shut my eyes, right at this moment,
I can drift off to another place:
Hawaii, Tahiti, the Amazon, Malibu,
Or I can simply be content to just breathe in the essence of this very place.

Every cell in my body is vibrating at a higher frequency,
Speeded up by the adrenaline of my daily walk.
My love for this lagoon is very strong,
Plopped down, as it is, on the edge of this wild and crazy city.

This has been a wonderful summer,
Primarily because of this lake
And the peace and joy that it gives back to me.

I can’t afford a plane ticket to exotic locales,
At this present time.
It doesn’t cost a nickel to
Haul my ass down to the water’s edge
In the heat of the day.

I wish I could describe how these tides make me feel.
“Happy” is one word that seems to fit.
I used to think I needed so much more than this.