He
awoke today from a narcolepsy slide and followed his feet to the sandy
shoreline, the same waves and salty sea he has gazed into since he was
five, a lifetime of memories ago.
He
sits at a wooden picnic table overlooking the ocean, his gray hair
pulled into a loose ponytail. He bounces between subjects like an ADD
child, chatty and friendly, all tied to a song and photo.
In the midst of conversation he remembers something and retreats for a moment into a distant time. Northern Lights by
Lux. Look it up when you get home,� he says, “Lux. L-U-X. Amazing
music. It was playing this morning. So appropriate.� Just like that he
retreats again. Softly he tells how Northern Lights reminds him of his mother no longer with him.
He
is a photographer, retired, and sitting on this wobbly, weathered bench
has been his hobby as of late. Today is a beautiful day, a perfect day
at the beach that he loves. Ukraine is a beautiful country too, but his
favorite place in the world is Denver, Colorado in the fall.
“Breathtaking
clouds that seem to go on forever and the most amazing colors you will
ever see,� he recalls with a twinkle in his eyes. “Oh if you ever get to
go to Denver in the fall you really must!�
The
conversation ping pongs through a few more rounds, states and
countries. His friendly demeanor takes on a seriousness. “Live every
moment,� he says, “There are a lot of moments in life you will never get
back.�
With
that the amicable, yet tortured artist, bids adieu, taking his camera
and song, following his feet back to the sandy shore that continues to
whisper his name and captivate his gaze.
“My life is like a stroll on the beach…as near to the edge as I can go.â€�
–Thoreau
