Sunday, August 19, 2007

The Giant’s progress

Sunday August 12, 2007: (Broadoak, Dorset)

It had rained in the night. The air positively zinged with the green freshness of the world. Overhead, a crow cawed. In the distance, cows lowed and a car hummed on the nearby road. I settled down on my tarp to connect with the land.

Powerfully I strode across the land, my head on a level with the swooping and soaring birds. How magnificent the world looked from this vantage point.

Carefully I placed each great foot upon the undulating green land beneath my feet. On tip toes, I edged past the winding green and brown tracks, the ankle height great clumps of trees that were the forests until I reached what I had seen in the distance, the glittering dancing sea.

I stepped down easily from the high cliff and strode out into the moving waves. With great swinging strides I pushed against the heaviness of the water, until it was deep enough for me to swim in. Then, with a gasp that blew the clouds along, I immersed myself in its chilly freshness and struck out to sea.

Now I floated on the water, light as a feather. The mighty sea bore me along easily. As the tide returned, I drifted back towards the land. I came to rest upon the sea floor, my head pillowed on a great rock, the shingle moulding to the shape of my body.

There I lay for thousands of years, caressed by the waves, buffed by the wind and warmed by the sun. Birds perched on me and at low tide humans clambered upon me.

On a bright freshly rain-washed August morn, a seagull landed on me. She sat for a while before off she flew, soaring into the clear blue summer sky. And on this day, I who had slumbered so long, went with her, became her, flew high above the spinning land below, back to the field where I sat on my tarp, dreaming in the early morning sunlight.


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