Mama has ten ducklings in tow. Their tiny heads dip below the surface and then they shake, forcing minnows down their own throats. Dad is slightly up stream, I assume it's dad.
Mark is stacking rocks by their tiniest points, taunting gravity in an homage to Andy Goldsworthy.
"This is going to sound stupid or naive." Years of relationships with smart, pointed men have taught me to hedge my bets. "If I came across some of your rocks on a hike, it would not even occur to me that they were man made. I am just so in awe of nature I would assume they are some freak occurrence."
"Well, they could have weathered that way. The water and..." He tries for me.
"No! No they could not have! Not like that. Not in a million years." I am roaring with laughter at my blindness.
He shakes his head and pushes his tongue past his crooked teeth and out the side of his mouth. His smile is like lava. I thought I could outrun it, but instead we are sitting on a fallen tree in a creek, holding each other and feeling apprehensively free.
I start crying sometimes, like this time with rocks and ducks, because my life is so much better than I ever believed possible. I start crying because his wiry arm is wrapped around me and I recognize how close I came to compromising. To settling. To being realistic.
The ducklings will grow older then old, then they will die. The rocks will fall but they will always be rocks, just in a different formation. I don't know if Mark and I are ducks or rocks, but I know we are changing.
Comments (8)
oh who is mark?! betty i'm so glad to see your voice around here again. : )
it just makes my day.
@RizzlGrizzl -
Really, it's not self-explanatory?Glad to hear from you again. :) *hugs*
"... and I recognize how close I came to compromising. To settling. To being realistic."? What does this mean/entail? I'm not sure I caught it.
Thanks, and glad to see you're okay,
~*Akarui Mitsukai*~