The Meeting Place

They met in the waves one foggy, August morning. Both in full wetsuits, all set in the lineup, with calm, friendly fins. 

And they met in the sky one sunny afternoon. Both in expansive wings, free flying the friendly skies, above the ground and the weight of the earth. Held in the arms of the wind. 

Time seemed to stop as these kindred spirits held the same space. If only for a breath; bound by the spiritual glue of the ocean and of the wind that belongs to everyone, to no one. That carries those who dare to drop in and leap, trusting that they will be carried. 

I wonder…who wants to be like who? Are the dolphins wishing for the stoke of the surfers? Do the birds envy the finesse of the paragliders? Or is it just us trying to shed our humanity and connect with the things our souls know to be true?

We’re all more alike than we are different; everything we can see with our eyes and that which we can only feel with our hearts. 


I’m just a girl, sitting on the beach, a witness to the converging of worlds, coincidently having a picnic with the squirrels.

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