A splash in the water a few meters away snaps her out of her wondering...
One of those little jumpy fish doing a backflip in the moonlight.
Then another and another and another.
So agile and quick!
She can see the ripples indicating a whole school of little fish and it's like they're all taking turns doing backflips.
She lies back on her elbows watching the performance for a while.
There's a grey heron down on the shore watching the act as well.
It's a 'punk heron'.
She calls it that cos of the punk-ish tufts of hair on its head.
Of course, that's not its real name...what that is, she doesn't really care.
Her husband would know.
He knows the 'proper' names of most things.
It's part of his job.
To label and map and judge and decide based on all the data he's given.
She's worried about his current assignment.
To make proposals about that 'wilderness' land.
She knows he'll think lots about it.
And he'll listen, to a degree, to what she's got to say...but the 'rational' aspect is just so strong and the pressures to create what's best for 'growth' usually dominates all else in his job.
She admires the activist girl, today who tried to take him into the land to feel what it was all about.
Brave girl and such a creative approach.
But to teach a man with so many limits how to feel the potential of having none is almost impossible...
And if she'd succeeded he'd be with her now...
Down by this river
Moon shining on water,
Soft sand beneath her,
and the rest is for her imagination to indulge in...
(continued next post)