Somewhere along Florida Panhandle I had just finished looking at a coastal
fort built in the 1830's

It was Saturday; and by mid day it was hot;
The off shore Gulf Breeze blew high rollers into the white sand beach  with
that  majestic sound.of a cresting force breaking into long  roll of crashing
white water..

I can't get away from this sound ;
it mesmerizes my soul to strip down quietly and quickly under a towel and
then into my suit and slip down to the waters edge  only to   wade into the
churn and  contemplate my fate  as the breakers pound the surf  before me ..

Today the Gulf is an emerald beauty; blue sky and an endless sun are broken
by towering white cotton ball clouds that speed by, in a hurry to nowhere
scattering bold shafts of  glistening light along the sparkling beach and sea
.

Sea Terns soar and dive bomb little silver bait fish of mackerel and colorful
needle nose hog fish   just over the swell.
A family of oyster catchers eye silently from the shell strewn  high tide
mark sunning themselves and waiting their turn.

Deep mystery lies here ;not so much in the physical but in the metaphysical
of what once was
This ancient white sand witnessed not only the arrival of the conquistadors
and the slave trade but also the blood cult of the Mayans and the Toltecs
before them .
Huge oyster middens thousands of years old   once dotted the entire coast;
and wooden totems from  ancient logs spoke of owl and bird clans to mark
their tribal spots along  the rivers and bayous  that proliferate the
coastline.

It is also known that  somewhere between here and Cancun experienced the
impact of the asteroid that ended the realm of the dinosaur and ushered in
the age of man.

Yet there are no markers; no signs, telling of those events;
nothing to indicate man or earthly upheavals ever happened here.

You feel History here ; it is in the wind and under the palms; reflective by
the moon and under the celestial sky in the perpetual harmony of the sea ,
sand  and all it touches in this mysterious prism of light and coast.

I am alone in this enchanted place or at least I think I am.
It doesn't matter. I dive into the surf and make for the break.
I negotiate a succession of long rollers under water and come up just beyond
the curl.
I rest there on my back letting my old bones rise and fall with the rythym
and swell.

I am lucky; I am alone with the mother sea  and let its waters rock me and
bath me in briny Epsom to my hearts desire.
The sun bronzes my skin and blonds my beard as I butterfly and backstroke
along the rip  eyeing the coastline  and the terns who are merrily diving
about me .

Occasionally I kick to catch a wave and let my body be flung like and arrow
arcing up and over the crest and then free fall   into the curl before
finally  letting the water pound over me in a gigantic massage of white water
and retreating foam.

Getting back out isn't so easy; as  I am pounded and trounced and my muscle
and bones  move in ways unknown to me since I was an infant.
 It feels good however and I am tempted to repeat it again and again until I
tire and just float continently beyond the break letting mother ocean spin me
 round and round in the rhythm of her  swell.

I am daydreaming staring out  upon the turquoise sea; when I see something I
have never seen ;
a Sea Tern dives just 15ft in front of me takes his bait fish; and  exits the
water
when all of a sudden a large Bonita (tuna family) breaks water and takes the
bait fish and the Tern down with him in a large splash.
I am  in disbelief;
 I watch the surface for signs of life , or a struggle
nothing..
.I bob like a cork waiting for any  sign  ;....even another Tern ;
nothing but the deadly tranquility of the sea  and this beautiful day.

Suddenly I am shaken by this event  dream or no dream
I feel its prophetic and no longer do I feel alone
I struggle to refocus and take account  of my surroundings ...
.I look around me and then below me
 only to witness a large dorsal fin swim by

 I have seen enough. Dolphin or shark I am  in the bait stream and want out.
I catch the next wave , a big one and rough ride it   ; getting pummeled and
trounced in the undertow.
Staggering out of the surf  I  see  a black man  dressed as a beachcomber who
has just watched me exit;
I slowly walk  up to him tired and   toweling my head as if to relieve the
memory of what I had just seen .

I ask him casually if he saw the Tern dive
He replied that he  did

Then I asked him if he saw the fish take him
 "Yeeah...  but I  wuzuntn't so sure till you axed" ...
"Whew    Im glad ...I said .... "I thought I dreamed it ".and well ".....
 to which we both laughed because nobody likes to be alone when they see
things.

Then I told him about the large dorsal fin I saw below me ;
to which he motioned back to the water with his eyes
as the bait fish broke surface again..

"Well dare is sure  lots to eat" he said and then smiled brightly under his
floppy hat
looking at me  at me as if I had just gotten off the menu of life.

We looked at the water awhile  time  then he  moved off with a wave of hand
down beach ...
I watched him  go until he disappeared into one of those shafts of light
dancing the shoreline.
I  looked back at the water again and breathed easy  letting  the reality
sink in about  life ..All life  and .that is
...... sooner or later we are  all part of the food chain
Michael   .

--
To terminate puerile preservation prattling among pals and the
uncoffee-ed, or to change your settings, go to:
<http://maelstrom.stjohns.edu/archives/bullamanka-pinheads.html>