drifting

we paddled out to what we thought was the very middle.

we passed a bottle of wine back and forth.

flopped from our stomachs to our backs, one knee crossed over the other.

just drifting. floating. talking. thinking.

I don't really know how much time had passed, but we noticed a storm rolling up from the south.

so we sit up and decide to paddle back to shore.

I looked at the coast, and thought I remembered that Y a few miles south of us being north of us the last time I had looked.

 

aw shit.

 

we had drifted miles.

and a black cloud was charging towards us, fast.
still a little drunk, and not quite worried yet

 I looked at it picturing the rhino from James & the Giant Peach

my plan was to cut in to shore.

I'm not sure what her plan was

 but within a few minutes we had paddled a hundred yards away from each other.

and despite how hard we paddled, we were fighting the current and a strong wind.

I found it kind of beautiful, watching us.

I kept looking to her, worried about her safety.

I was paddling, she was paddling.

both of us fighting the same battle in our own way.

fighting hard. forging our own paths

 

fighting our fear from creeping in

too far away to hear each other scream

but still comforted knowing the other was there.

we were making no progress at all

and we were in the heart of a microburst

water and waves and wind were whipping our faces

 

eventually, somebody called the coast guard to come rescue us.

I've never once in my life been grateful to see police lights flashing behind me, until then.

we collapsed once we hit shore, barely able to walk from trembling.

we celebrated being people that just escaped possible death with margaritas.

haha and we got some pretty good pictures out of the day, to boot.

 

 

 

cheers to seeing potentially deadly disasters as motivational metaphors about the battle that is life.

haha